Silver Sunlight
by Bluestarshine
Summary: Pat and Tiffany see each others hearts, silver patterned with gold and stained black. They know what lies within these hearts but still they stay because they are connected, they are the same, and they have felt this way from the moment they met. In your darkest moments love might save you. Sometimes, you have a shot at a silver lining and if you get one, take it & never let it go.
1. Silver morning

**Disclaimer: Silver Linings Playbook is copyright to Matthew Quick and David O Russel. All Rights Reserved. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made. I claim and own nothing.**

* * *

The room is quiet, unmoving and lit up in a dull early morning light, when Pat wakes. His eyes flutter briefly, for a moment, before he finally opens his eyes so that he may take in every detail of his room. He wants to take in every detail because he wants to remember this, he has to remember this.

He cranes his neck, slightly, towards the windows and finds that there are small cracks of yellow sunlight sneaking through. These flickers of sunlight are only small but they bring enough light with them to allow him to, as he turns his head back towards where it had previously rested, see her.

He finds Tiffany sleeping beside him in his bed, lying on the side so that she is facing him. Her eyes are closed, her chest rises and falls softly, and she still remains asleep.

Her brown curls are tied up, in the same style of the previous night's competition. She wears the same clothes as what she was wearing last night, at the competition, and as Pat glances down at himself he finds he is still wearing his suit from last night.

Pat looks up at her again, somehow resisting the temptation to wake her from her sleep. He doesn't wake her because she deserves to sleep, to rest peacefully.

He watches her, silently, as the memories of last night come to him in flashes and flickers and he knows he can never forget these flashes and flickers of the night.

Last night, they won the game and the dance competition and so his father had won enough money to start his restaurant, their family restaurant.

Last night, Pat remembers, he and Tiffany had walked home together, holding hands, and it had been different but in a good way. It was everything that he had wanted it to be since he had met her.

They couldn't stop smiling, as they walked home, and eventually Tiffany had told him to "stop being creepy, crazy."

And he had laughed, so loudly, at this because he'd known that she was only teasing and that she didn't mean it. He knew the real Tiffany; he'd always known the real Tiffany, just like she knew who he really was. That was why they were so perfect together, so right for each other.

From the beginning they had known who they really were, underneath.

They already knew the others flaws, their pain and their suffering and still, somehow, they had managed to find the good in each other, the silver lining in the other. And there was so much good inside both of them and Pat didn't care if the only people who could see this good, inside of him, were Tiffany, his family, and his friends because they are the only people he'll ever need.

He lowers his gaze back down, from where it had drifted towards the sunlight sneaking through the window, on to Tiffany. He reaches, with his right hand, for the blanket and slowly pulls it up, from where it had fallen around her waist, so that it covers her body so she isn't cold.

He pauses, hesitant almost, before he pushes a strand of her fringe to the side so it doesn't cover her face. He finds himself watching her, for quite some time, as he takes in every detail of her face so that he'll always remember it.

"I thought we discussed you toning down the creepy?" she asks, unexpectedly, without moving, or opening her eyes.

Pat leans back, slightly, where he lies and while laughing he counters, "What? I'm not creepy, I'm just-"

"Watching me while I sleep?" she asks, opening her eyes slowly to find Pat beside her.

She remembers last night, clearly. When she thinks of how they walked home together, holding hands, and smiling, she can't fight the smile that spreads on to her lips.

She remembers returning to Pat's house and finding it alive with laughter and celebration – because they won. After spending an hour downstairs with the party, Pat had led Tiffany upstairs where they had spent hours, after hours, talking, sharing thoughts, dreams, and ideas and what time they didn't spend talking they spent laughing.

They had laughed so much that at one moment tears had streamed down their cheeks and they had laughed silently as they had gasped for breaths of air.

The last thing that Tiffany remembers is seeing are the Christmas lights, in the room, colourfully lighting up the darkness as she'd slowly, and peacefully, fallen to sleep with Pat by her side.

"I wasn't- it wasn't creepy, okay?" Pat replies, still wearing a smile. "Good morning. It's a good morning." he states, still watching her closely and intently.

Tiffany smiles. "Is it?" she asks.

He nods. "Any morning waking up with you is a good one." he says.

If possible, her smile widens and as it does she leans forward, on the bed, so that she is closer to Pat. She rests a hand on his cheek and pulls him in, towards her, as she presses a kiss against his lips.

"Good morning." she says, softly, as she pulls away from him.

He looks down at Tiffany, the smile remaining on his face, as he asks, "What are you doing today?"

"What am I doing?" Tiffany asks, still watching him so closely as though she is afraid that he might disappear or leave at any moment.

"Yeah." he nods. "What are you doing today, Tiffany?" he asks.

"I have a pretty big day planned." she says, noting the slight hint of disappointment in his eyes as she says those words.

"Really?" he asks her. "Doing what, exactly?" he asks.

"Well…." she begins, purposely drawing out the word. "I was planning on having a shower, first."

"Yeah?" he asks, his eyes remaining on her.

"Mmm…" she replies. She pauses before she says, slowly, "And then, I thought I might get something to eat, go for a run, maybe."

Pat pauses before he states, loudly, "You can do all of that here."

She tilts her head, so slightly, to the side before she asks, "Can I?"

"Yep." he answers, nodding his head once. He says, quickly, "You can. We have a shower here."

"No!" she exclaims, feigning disbelief. "You have a shower here, too?" she asks, pretending to gasp at such a shocking coincidence. "What a coincidence!" she exclaims.

"I know." Pat agrees, grinning wider now. He asks, "What are the chances?"

"I know!" Tiffany answers. She pauses before, with a softer tone, she asks, "Are you sure your parents, would…."

"Am I sure that they'd be fine with you having a shower here?" Pat asks, finishing her question when she fails to.

Tiffany simply nods at this.

"Uh, yeah!" Pat exclaims, tossing his hands up, slightly, in the air. "My parents love you." he declares.

"Really?" she asks, holding his gaze.

"Really!" he nods, answering quickly and loudly. "If it isn't obvious by now, then I don't…You- You're the reason we won." he says, smiling as he remembers the previous night's events.

"I'm the reason the ju-ju was good." Tiffany says.

"Yep, they love you." Pat states. He hesitates, drawing in a small breath, before he adds, "And me? Well, I like you. I mean, you're okay."

These words cause a smile to spread, even further, on to Tiffany's features.

She frowns, ever so slightly, as she says, "I'm okay?"

"You're okay." Pat agrees; as he answers, he holds his hands up in the air slightly. "Hey." he says. "I'm just trying not to be creepy." he admits.

Tiffany sighs, loudly, and she rolls her eyes slyly. "Pat." she sighs, again.

He gives no verbal response but simply watches her, remaining silent as though he is waiting for her to continue speaking.

"Pat…." she repeats. "Don't…I was…"

"I know." Pat nods, finally speaking. "I don't like you." he says, simply, with such a serious expression hardened on his face.

Tiffany leans back, slightly, with her eyebrows raised. "You don't?" she asks.

He shakes his head, once. "I don't. I changed my mind." he says.

The smile which had been playing on his lips finally spreads, on to his face, and while grinning he says, quietly, "I love you."

Tiffany manages a small, dry laugh before she, softly and honestly, admits, "I think….I could get used to hearing that."

He asks, still with a smile, "You could?"

She nods, once. "I could." she answers.

He answers, simply, "Good."

"Oh, yeah, why is that?" Tiffany asks; as she speaks she props her body up, so that she's resting on her should and is now lying at the same level as Pat.

"I'm not going anywhere." he admits; the vulnerability slips through his voice, unintentionally, as he speaks.

"You're not?" Tiffany asks; the smile remains on her face.

Pat notices, as he holds her unwavering gaze, that there is a flicker of almost disbelief in her eyes as though she almost doesn't believe him as he tells her he won't leave her, and that he isn't going anywhere.

"Nope." he answers. "This is our shot, at a silver lining." he smiles, pressing a quick kiss to her lips

She pauses for a moment before she repeats, "It's our shot."

She sighs. "I'm not going anywhere, either." she adds.

"Except…." Pat begins. "For a shower…You're going for a shower." he says.

She shakes her head, quickly, as she replies, "I can't, Pat. I don't have any clothes, here."

He frowns, slightly, as he gestures towards her clothes. "You're wearing clothes." he states.

Tiffany sighs. "I can't have a shower and change in to these clothes." she says.

"Okay. Okay." Pat answers, quickly and loudly. "I've got a shirt…." he begins. "Some pants, socks…." he adds.

"Pat, no." she says, simply, the smile faltering on her lips.

The frown remains on his face as he answers, "What? You don't want a shirt?"

"I can't." she says; her voice rises, slightly, and the smile disappears entirely from her face. "I can't do this." she admits, sounding more panicked by the second.

The smile, which had been so big on his face, disappears completely and he moves so that he's sitting up, and looking down at her. "You can't what?" he asks. "Why can't you?" he questions.

"I can't." she answers.

But she doesn't answer his question and so her response only causes Pat greater confusion.

"What?" he asks; the frown deepening, if possible, on his features as he speaks. "It's just a shower." he states. He repeats, slowly, "It's just a shower."

"It's not just a shower, Pat." Tiffany counters, quickly. "It's not just a shower. It's more than that." she insists.

"No, it's not." he answers, slowly but with a much louder voice. "It's just a shower." he repeats.

Tiffany shakes her head, quickly, as she says, "First, it's a shower. I wear your clothes. Then, suddenly, we're married living in a house in the fucking burbs. I'm working three jobs, you're unemployed and I'm a soccer mum of these bratty children that hate me, and want to scratch my eyes out, and you hate me but you don't leave me because of a fucked up reason of having to stay and you're miserable and involved in white collar-"

"Whoa, whoa!" Pat exclaims, holding his hands up in the air as he speaks. He says, softly, "Tiffany. Tiff…"

"What, Pat?" she replies, loudly.

"I need to breathe?" she asks, gesturing towards herself.

She pauses, holding his gaze, as she now gestures towards him.

"Well, you – you need to learn when I'm messing with you." she says, and as those last words pass her lips the smile reappears on her face.

"What?" he asks, frowning more deeply now.

He pauses, leaning back slightly.

"You're…What?" he asks.

He falls silent, again, as he draws in a breath of air.

"I need to learn….What? What?" he questions. His eyes remain locked with hers as he asks, "You're messing with me? _You're_ messing with me?"

Tiffany nods, the smile on her lips growing bigger, as she replies, "Yeah."

"You're messing with me." he states, still uncertain and still frowning.

Tiffany nods, once more. "I'm messing with you." she grins.

"Oh….." he sighs, loudly. "That's just…" he begins. "You're going to pay." he says, quickly.

As he finishes speaking, Pat moves forward and begins to tickle Tiffany all over; her stomach, her legs, her back. She squirms, in the bed, because she's ticklish.

"Pat!" she exclaims, loudly, eventually shoving him away.

His grin turns in to a laugh, a loud and highly contagious laugh, and soon enough they're both laughing, madly, and smiling at each other.

Tiffany leans in, pressing a quick kiss to Pat's lips, before she pulls away and jumps up off of the bed.

"So, you're going for that shower?" he asks.

"Yes." she nods.

Pat sighs before he answers, "I'd offer you a towel but, you know, it's a little too much of a commitment for me and next thing I know we'll be living in the-"

"Okay. Okay." Tiffany says, loudly, holding her hands slightly up in the air. "I was messing with you." she says. "Because you said you didn't like me." she adds.

She watches as he pulls himself up, so that he's sitting on the edge of the bed. He watches her, carefully, before he says, "How could I not like you? How could anyone not like you?"

Tiffany scoffs, loudly, at this and manages a laugh. "Well, both of those things are really easy to achieve, actually." she states. "You didn't like me at first." she adds.

"Come on. Yes I did. The first one – that's unachievable." Pat counters. "And who cares if no one else likes you because I do, and my parents do. And, I think your parents do."

"You think my parents do?" she asks, grinning.

"Yeah, I think – I mean, they're a bit iffy, you know?" Pat asks, unable to contain the smile that had previously been playing on his lips. He stands from the bed, and steps towards Tiffany, as he says, "I just…This is awkward but I just…I think I'm the son they always wanted, you know?"

Tiffany rolls her eyes, slightly, but she still continues to wear a grin on her face as she says, "Shut up, Pat. I'm going for a shower."

* * *

After having a nice, warm shower which soothes her skin, Tiffany wraps a towel around herself and returns to Pat's room where she finds that he has set out a pair of sweat pants, a baggy blue shirt, and a grey hooded jacket. She smiles at this and closes the door.

She changes, quickly, in to the clothes and once she has pulled on the jacket she finds a pair of socks rolled up for her to wear. She pulls them on and then removes her hair from the hair band it had been pulled up in.

She runs her fingers through her hair, removing the knots, and then pulls it back in to a ponytail.

Tiffany comes downstairs to find Pat Sr., and Dolores, sitting at the dining table. Pat enters the room, from the kitchen, with two glasses of orange juice in his hand.

"Nice shower?" he asks, setting the glasses down on to coasters on the table.

Tiffany nods once. "Uh, yeah," she answers. "Morning." she says, to Pat Sr. and Dolores.

"There's our good luck charm!" Pat Snr. exclaims, grinning, as he glances up at her.

"Take a seat, Tiffany." Dolores says, smiling kindly at her.

"Oh, I don't…" Tiffany begins.

"Come on, take a seat." Pat Snr. insists.

"I made pancakes." Dolores announces.

Pat, who has taken a seat at the table, cranes his neck backwards so he can look at Tiffany.

"Come on. She made fresh pancakes, for you." Pat says.

Tiffany nods, smiling, as she steps towards the table. She pulls out the empty chair, beside Pat, and takes a seat. She glances up to find Pat watching her, a smile already set on his features.

"What?" she asks.

"What?" he repeats.

"Nothing." Tiffany answers, with a smile.

She digs in to her pancakes, which are fresh and delicious, and after finishing her pancakes Pat tries to shove more off on to her plate as he worries that she didn't get enough to eat.

"Pat, I had plenty." she assures him.

Pat begins, "You sure? I mean, I've got lots of pancakes – too many. If you're-"

"I'm sure." Tiffany says, quickly.

"Okay. Okay. If you're sure then you're sure." Pat answers.

After everyone has finished breakfast, Tiffany and Pat clean up the dishes and put them away. They talk a little but mostly clean in a silence. When they have finished, Tiffany looks up to find Pat, already, looking at her. He smiles as she meets his gaze.

"I should go home, Pat." she says.

His smile falters.

A frown threatens to appear on his face but it doesn't.

He nods, once. "Why?" he asks.

"To see my parents, Veronica…." she answers.

"Alright, alright." Pat answers, quickly. "What- You want to do something, tonight?" he asks. "I don't know. Maybe, I guess, if you want to." he adds.

"Of course I want to, Pat." Tiffany says.

Tiffany takes a step towards Pat, stopping only when they are standing so close to each other. She presses a quick kiss to his lips before she says, "You want to have dinner?"

Pat nods, eagerly. "Yeah, I do."

"Pick me up at 8:30?" she asks.

"I will." Pat says, grinning.

He kisses her, again, and pulls her closer to him. "I'll see you at 8:30." he says, as he reluctantly removes his hands from around her waist.

She smiles. "Don't be late."

As Tiffany steps out of the front door of her house, calling out goodnight to her parents, she turns around to find Pat standing in her driveway. He smiles at her, as she catches sight of him. The light shines down on to him, only making his grin seem wider.

"Hey." he calls out.

"You're on time." she states, almost in disbelief.

"When have I never been on time? When? Come on, tell me, when?" he asks.

"Never." Tiffany sighs, still smiling.

"That's right," Pat replies. "Never." he repeats.

He pauses, falling silent now, as they step towards each other. He casts his eyes over her before he lifts them to meet her gaze.

She's wearing a long black trench coat, the one she'd been wearing that night they went to the diner, and a pair of black high heeled boots. Her black hair is pulled back, nicely, and her curls fall on to her face. She looks so beautiful.

"What?" she asks.

He sees her insecurity that she feels, slipping through, in her eyes. She shifts, slightly, in her stance as she holds his gaze.

"Nothing." Pat assures her. "You look nice. You look beautiful." he says.

Tiffany rolls her eyes.

"What?!" he asks, his grin widening.

He manages a small, dry laugh as he begins to follow her as she walks away from him.

"I wore this coat when we went to the diner." she states.

"Yeah?" he asks.

"How can I look beautiful-" Tiffany begins.

"You look great, in that coat." Pat says, quickly. "You looked great in it at the diner." he adds.

She frowns. "I did?" she asks.

He nods. "You did...Although, I'm pretty sure we can never go back to that diner. Well, you definitely can't." he says, laughing as he speaks.

Tiffany laughs, loudly, at this. She turns back to Pat, still smiling at him.

"Hey!" Pat exclaims.

He suddenly stops walking.

"Where are you walking to?" he asks.

Tiffany frowns and stops walking. She turns to face him.

"What, Pat?" Tiffany asks.

"Where are you walking to?" he repeats.

Now, Tiffany's smile widens. "Dinner?" she asks.

"Yeah but you don't know where it is. You don't know where I'm taking you unless – No, you didn't!" he exclaims, raising his hands up to his forehead. "No." he adds, still with his head in his hands.

He pulls his hands away from his head and drops them to his side. When he looks up at Tiffany, again, he wears an accusing expression on his face.

"My mother called you, didn't she?" Pat asks.

Tiffany pauses – and this gives Pat his answer.

"Oh..." he sighs, loudly, turning away from her.

"Pat." Tiffany calls out. She steps towards him, as she says, "It's okay, Pat."

"It's okay?" Pat asks, loudly. "It's not okay." he says. He sighs loudly before he states, "Apparently, mystery and romance are both just as dead as chivalry."

"Oh, come on, Pat." Tiffany says.

She walks until she is standing right in front of him. "It's not that bad." she says. "I've never been here before. I don't know what it's like." she states.

He sighs, again.

"Pat..." she repeats.

He meets her gaze, again, and simply nods several times.

"We're okay?" she asks.

He nods. "We're okay." he repeats.

"You're sure?" Tiffany asks.

Pat smiles, again. "I'm sure. We're okay. We're good." he answers.

The restaurant is buzzing with the sounds of music, chatter and laughter when Tiffany and Pat arrive. As he casts his eyes over the room, he's more than pleased with it. It's nice. The room is decorated nicely, with simple lights, and the tables, which are a dark brown, are nicely arranged. He instantly believes that it's a very nice place to take Tiffany on their first date.

They are led towards a table, next to the window, towards the middle of the room.

As they enter they'd entered the restaurant, Tiffany had been able to get a proper look at Pat; he's dressed in a pair of light, tan pants and a nice, long sleeved, blue shirt. It's nice – it's more than nice. He looks amazing in it but Tiffany finds herself missing his jumpers, and his other shirts. She can tell he's put some effort into what he's wearing tonight and this causes a smile to tug at the corners of her lips.

"What?" Pat asks, looking up from where he sits across from Tiffany.

She shrugs. "Nothing." she answers.

"What? It's not nothing." Pat counters, quickly.

"I'm happy, okay?" she says.

"Yeah?" he asks.

Tiffany nods. "Yeah." she answers. "Are you?" she asks.

"Me? Am I happy?" he asks.

She nods, again.

"I'm happy. Of course I'm happy. Happier than I've ever been. I'm hungry, too." he answers, grinning as he speaks.

"What are you going to get?" Tiffany asks, as she glances down towards the menu.

"I haven't really thought about it..." he murmurs, casting his eyes over the menu.

"What, you're not getting cereal?" she asks, almost sounding shocked.

He looks up, immediately. "I'm not getting cereal on our first date." Pat states.

"It's not our first date." Tiffany replies.

Pat grins. "It's out first date." he answers.

"Cereal counts as-" she begins.

"It doesn't." Pat insists. "It doesn't count. This is our first date." he says, still smiling.

Tiffany hesitates. "Okay." she answers.

"Okay?" he asks, almost surprised that she agreed that easily.

"Okay." she answers. "It's our first date." she smiles.

As Tiffany, briefly, casts her gaze away from Pat she finds that she sets it down upon a familiar face; she knows those eyes, she hates those eyes, and as she sees him her entire body stiffens up.

Pat doesn't notice this. He's looking down at his menu, a smile still resting on his face, and chattering on about what looks good on the desert menu.

"Tiff?" Pat calls out, as he looks up to find her gazing off.

She meets his gaze, slowly.

"You decided what you wanted?" he asks.

For a second, he's completely oblivious to the drastic change in her mood.

Her face is hardened, the smile no longer rests on her face, and her eyes are much colder.

"What-What's wrong?" Pat asks, his smile faltering. "You okay?" he asks.

She nods, quickly. "I need – I'm sorry, Pat. I can't do this." she admits.

And with those last, unexpected, words Tiffany gathers her purse, her coat, and stands from her chair.

"Whoa, Tiff-Tiffany?" he calls out.

"I'm sorry, Pat." she says, genuinely.

She steps away from him, quickly, and with her head lowered down she moves towards the front doors of the restaurant.

Pat grabs his coat, from the chair, and all but runs after Tiffany. He doesn't understand what's gotten into her, and why she's suddenly pulled away, but he won't let her get away. He won't lose her because he can't.

"Tiffany?" he calls out, after her, as he steps out onto the street.

She doesn't turn back; she continues walking in the direction of her house, drawing in a slow, cold, sharp breath of air.

"Whoa, whoa, Tiffany. Come on! Just slow down, alright?" he says.

He runs after her until he catches up to her and when he does, she doesn't glance at him. She continues walking forward, keeping her eyes on the road.

"I want to go home, Pat." she states, finally.

"Okay. Okay. We can go home." he agrees, nodding quickly.

"I said 'I', Pat...Not we." she counters, quickly, still purposefully avoiding his gaze.

Pat moves quickly; he steps so that he's standing in front of her, blocking her path so that she can't step forward unless she steps around him and if she tries to do that he will move with her and block her path again.

"What happened?" he asks. "Was it the restaurant? The food? Was it something I said?" Pat asks.

Tiffany feels a guilt; she feels a heavy guilt weighing down upon her.

There was nothing wrong with the restaurant, it was nice. There was nothing wrong with the food, she is certain it would have been delicious. And Pat – he didn't say anything wrong. He was being sweet, and thoughtful, and she ruined it because that's what she does; she ruins things.

She wants to tell Pat that she's wrong – she's wrong for him but she can't because she wants him so much, she needs him so much.

"No." she answers, softly. "Nothing. There was nothing wrong." she answers.

Pat pauses. "What was it, then?" he asks.

"Nothing." Tiffany repeats.

"Okay." he answers, finally. "I didn't really like that place, anyway." he admits.

Tiffany hesitates.

"What?" Pat asks.

"You can come back to mine, if you want. For dinner." she suggests.

"So, our first date will be at your place?" he asks, the smile reappearing.

Tiffany simply nods.

"Alright." Pat agrees. "Sounds great. Good."

* * *

**A/N: Hi all! This is my first Silver Linings story. I'm actually pretty nervous about posting it on here...After watching the movie, and reading the book, I fell in love and then ideas started coming to me about a possible story. This isn't intended as a one-shot but if no one is interested I'll probably end up taking it down. I'm pretty nervous about posting this because the characters are so incredible and intense and it's a lot to live up to...**

**Anyway, I hope you enjoy it. I apologise for any spelling errors, I have re-read it to remove any errors. And if you want, let me know your thoughts and if you'd like me to continue.**

**Thanks for reading. **

**X**


	2. Silver light

**Disclaimer: Silver Linings Playbook is copyright to Matthew Quick and David O Russel. All Rights Reserved. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made. I claim and own nothing.**

* * *

The walk back to Tiffany's house is different. They don't talk as much, they don't smile as much. Something has changed and Pat doesn't understand how or why – but he doesn't say anything just yet. He leaves the silence, as it is, floating between the two of them.

Tiffany knows she doesn't have that much food, at her place. She hadn't expected to have Pat over, or anyone over, for dinner. They'll just order in some food.

As they reach her place, Tiffany pulls out her keys and unlocks the doors. She steps through first, and after Pat steps through he closes the door behind him. They move in through the second door and in to the studio.

As they enter the studio, a grin reappears on Pat's face. This place reminds him of so many things; their first dance, how they won the competition, all of the time that they spent together practicing.

"What?" she asks, catching his smile.

He shrugs, unable to remove the smile.

"It's just – It's good. To be back here." he states, not saying anything else.

Tiffany simply nods, no smile on her face.

She pauses before she says, "You can come upstairs, if you want. I'll give you a tour."

"Upstairs?" Pat checks. "I've never been upstairs." he says.

Tiffany doesn't answer.

She stays silent as she leads the way, up the stairs. Pat follows behind her. They move up the stairs, slowly, and as he reaches the top of the staircase he sees the kitchen first; it's an open kitchen, with bench-tops running against the wall and a fridge in the corner. A small, circle, wooden table rests with a single chair in the middle of the kitchen.

For some reason, Pat finds the sight of a single chair at a dinner table sad. He seems to realize now that Tiffany was once very lonely, and that she still may be lonely at times. He casts his gaze towards a couch, in the furthest corner of the room, and a small television. The kitchen is clearly separated from where the couch is but no walls stand between them.

"Kitchen, couch." Tiffany says, gesturing towards them.

Pat turns to see Tiffany moving down the hallway, to the left, so he quickly moves and catches up to her. She opens the first door on the right and allows him to stick his head inside.

"Bathroom." she announces.

A long, white tub runs against the furthest wall of the room. A small, glass shower stands a few feet away from it. A wide mirror, the edges of which are decorated in a fine, elegant way hangs above the sink.

Pat finds the light switch and switches it off and turns towards Tiffany. She meets his gaze, briefly, before she leads him down towards the next door.

She pauses before she grips the handle, turns it, and steps inside to turn the light on.

As Pat follows Tiffany in to the room, he assumes is her bedroom, he moves his eyes quickly over the room. He takes in every detail as he does this. A double bed rests in the middle of the room, which is small, and dark blue sheets and blankets cover the bed. The room is neatly kept. Several pillows, varying in colors between a light blue and a dark blue, rest on top of the bed. A long string of lights runs across the room; tiny, simple, lantern-like lights hang from the ceiling.

"This is your room?" Pat blurts out.

"Yeah." Tiffany answers. "Why? Is there something wrong with it?" she asks, immediately on the defense. "Because, if you don't like it-" she begins.

"No, no, no." Pat says. "There's nothing wrong with it." he states, honestly. "It's nice." he adds.

"Nice?" Tiffany asks.

"Yeah." he nods. "I like it." he says.

"You do?" she asks.

Pat nods again. "Yeah, I do." he answers.

Tiffany hesitates.

Pat notices that she shifts, slightly, and for a moment she purposefully avoids his gaze.

"You want to stay the night?" she asks.

She shifts her eyes back, to meet his, and as she does Pat finds that they are incredibly guarded.

"Do I what- do I want to stay the night, tonight?" Pat asks, speaking a little faster.

"Yeah." Tiffany answers. "Do you?" she asks, again.

Pat shifts. "Yeah, I mean...Of course I do. Of course I'd want to stay the night with you." he says.

"Yeah?" Tiffany asks.

"Yeah." Pat answers. "But I don't – I don't want to if you're not okay with it." he adds, turning so that he is facing her directly now.

"I am." Tiffany nods. "It's just..." she begins, her voice much lower.

"It's just...What? What's wrong?" Pat asks; as he speaks a frown begins to form on his face.

He talks quickly. "Are you okay? Have I – Tiff..." he says.

"I'm fine, Pat." she says, quickly, speaking over him. "You're the..It's stupid." she admits.

She sighs and shifts, looking briefly away from him. "It's fucking stupid." she mutters.

"No." Pat answers, shaking his head repeatedly.

He steps forward so that she can't avoid his gaze, so she can't look away.

"It's not stupid." Pat replies. "Just say it, Tiffany. Say it." he says.

"Fine!" she replies, a little loudly.

She draws in a small breath and pauses.

"You're the first...person..." she murmurs.

And he knows; Tiffany doesn't have to finish her sentence because Pat already knows what she is going to stay. He's the first person who has stayed here with her – that wasn't a one night stand. He guesses that's what she means.

"Here?" he asks. "I'm the..." Pat begins.

"Mm-mm..." she murmurs.

"I don't- I don't have to." he says, quickly.

"I want you to." Tiffany assures him. "I do." she says. "I just..."

"What?" Pat asks. "Come on. Tell me, Tiff. Just tell me." he says.

"You know what I went through..." she begins.

"I know." he answers.

"I don't..." she begins.

And he knows, again, what she is trying to stay.

Never did Pat think he would find Tiffany unable to finish a sentence.

"No, no." he says.

His frown deepens.

"That's not what I meant." he states.

She frowns, now.

"What?" she asks.

"When I said I wanted to stay the night...It's not what I meant." Pat says, honestly.

"You don't?" she asks.

"I don't want to rush it with you." Pat states. "I don't." he repeats. "I love you, and I'm not going anywhere. We've got- We've got time, Tiff." he says.

"We do?" she answers. "Time to..." she begins.

"Do whatever we want to." he says. "How about...We start with some dinner?" he suggests. "I'll get it sorted." he adds.

Tiffany's grin reappears.

"You will?" she asks.

"Yeah." he nods. "I will. I can do that. I can. You get the drinks?" he suggests.

Tiffany nods, once. "Okay. I'll get the drinks." she answers.

"Yeah? You're good?" he asks.

She nods.

"We're good?" he asks.

"We're more than good, Pat." Tiffany answers.

Pat grins, and this grin is so wide and filled with such happiness.

"Okay!" he exclaims, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead before he steps out of the room and moves down towards the kitchen.

* * *

It takes Pat a while to put together dinner, considering that Tiffany really doesn't have that much food. She does have beer, though. She pulls out two bottles, opens them both, and sets one down on the table for Pat while she swallows large mouthfuls from her own bottle.

He moves around the kitchen for quite some time, not telling Tiffany what he is putting together and not allowing her to look in either.

He turns around, finally, with two plates in his hands; on these plates are two pieces of toast covered with scooped spoonfuls of scrambled eggs.

"That looks..." Tiffany begins.

"Disgusting?" Pat suggests. "Repulsive?" he asks.

"It looks good." she says.

Pat pauses as he reaches the table that Tiffany is sitting at; there's only one chair.

"Well..." he begins. "Want to move to the couch?" he suggests.

Tiffany nods and stands from the chair. She moves towards the fridge and pulls out her third bottle of beer. Pat glances towards his, still untouched, first bottle of beer resting on the table. He notes that she's drinking a little bit tonight but he doesn't say anything because she's allowed to drink as much as she wants, he doesn't want to make things uncomfortable, and he doesn't want to ruin the night.

Dinner is delicious. Tiffany quickly eats hers and insists Pat will have to cook it again. He knows she's just being nice – it's just scrambled eggs on toast.

After they've cleaned up, from dinner, Tiffany turns around to find Pat resting against the table, watching her. She holds his gaze for a moment and stays silent.

"What?" he asks.

She shrugs. "What, yourself." she replies, smiling.

Pat frowns slightly but still smiles at this.

"Nothing." he answers.

Tiffany's smile falters and it does so noticeably.

"I'm going for a shower..." Tiffany announces. "You can just...Make yourself at home until I'm out. Then, you can have one..." she adds.

"I don't know, Tiff. That's a pretty big commitment. Showering..." Pat teases.

Tiffany rolls her eyes. "Shut up." she replies, quickly, before moving down the hallway towards the shower.

Pat spends quite some on the couch, flicking through the channels of the television. He quickly turns it off and switches off the lights in the kitchen and the living room. He moves down the hallway towards Tiffany's bedroom; the lanterns above her bed provide the only light in the room.

They shine down, softly, lighting up the room gently.

He moves towards her bed and takes a seat on the edge of it. He glances up from where he sits and towards he chest of drawers, at the side of her bed. He pauses before he moves so that he's half-lying on the bed.

"You look comfy." Tiffany states.

Her voice causes Pat's eyes to flicker open quickly. He finds her standing in the doorway, a towel wrapped around her body, her hair tied up on her head.

Pat nods. "Yeah, I'll just – I'll step out." he states, as he steps towards the door. "And have a shower, I think. But – I don't think you have anything that will fit me. As nice as I think one of your blouses might look on me." he adds, smiling as he speaks.

"I'm sure I can find something, Pat." she replies, as she moves towards her chest of drawers.

Tiffany glances back, once more, at Pat as he stands in the doorway. He shifts, slightly, and manages a small smile as he reaches for her door.

"I'll just – I''ll shut this." he states, quickly, before he closes the door.

Tiffany sighs, once Pat is gone. She removes her hair from the tie and runs her fingers through it. She pulls it back, softly, before she closes her eyes.

She releases another sigh before she re-opens her eyes. She looks through her chest of drawers until she has found a shirt for Pat to wear – a jersey, made of a very soft cotton. It's a large size, which she often wears to bed, and it should fit him.

Then, she pulls out a pair of long track suit pants; they're a little too big for her so they might fit Pat. It's the best that she can do for him. If he gets cold, he'll have a blanket to himself with.

Tiffany dresses in to a pair of long, blue pants and a white and blue t-shirt. Just as she reaches for the door, to her bedroom so that she may put her towel away, the door is opened by Pat.

He stands before her with a blue towel tied around his waist. He smiles as he sees her, his eyes even appear to light up.

"So, I'm getting this feeling you like the colour blue?" he asks, gesturing towards the towel hanging around his waist, the blue bed sheets, and then the walls.

Tiffany manages a small smile as she somehow lifts her eyes away from his bare chest.

"I could be totally off." he adds. "I probably am." Pat teases.

Tiffany's smile widens. "I got you, uh...Some clothes, out." she says.

"You found some?" he asks, almost surprised that she manages to find something.

Tiffany nods. "On the bed. I'll just...I'll step out." she says, smiling, before she steps out of the room.

After Pat steps inside the room, he closes the door and turns towards the bed. He pulls on the sweatpants, which fit him well, and then he pulls on the shirt which is a little tight but it's not too bad – it fits and that's enough.

He steps outside and enters the bathroom to find it empty. He frowns, slightly, as he hadn't noticed any other lights on. Pat places his towel on the rack, which hangs on the wall, and steps out of the bathroom.

"Tiff?" he calls out.

Only a few seconds back before he receives an answer.

"Yeah?" she calls back.

He hears her coming up the stairs.

"You alright?" he asks.

He waits a few moments before she comes into his sight.

She smiles. "Those fit well." she says, gesturing towards his clothes.

"They do." Pat answers.

Pat hesitates. "Well, I guess I'll go on the couch..." he begins.

"The couch?" Tiffany frowns.

Pat nods. "Yeah...?" he replies, with an uncertain tone.

"What the fuck, Pat? The couch? Really?" Tiffany asks.

She sighs, loudly. "I mean, if you want the couch, sure. Go for it. It's all yours. But my bed is fine." she answers.

"No, no." Pat answers, quickly. "The bed is good. It's great." he adds.

As they enter the room, Pat turns towards Tiffany.

"What were you doing, downstairs?" he asks.

"Locking up." she answers, as she shuts her bedroom door.

She turns around, slowly, to find Pat standing only a few feet away from her.

"What are your plans, for tomorrow?" she asks.

Pat pretends to pause, to think over his plans.

"Big day." he announces.

"Yeah?" she asks, as she moves towards the bed.

Pat steps around the bed and moves towards the farther side, the left side. He watches as Tiffany moves, so that she's sitting on top of the bed sheets.

"Yeah." he answers. "Thinking I'll go for a run, a shower, read, maybe." he adds.

Tiffany simply nods.

Pat pulls back the covers of the bed and slides down, underneath them. He rests down against the pillows and releases a small sigh. He watches as Tiffany reaches up for a small cord, connected to the lanterns. She turns the lights out and returns towards the bed, which is lit up well by the moonlight so they aren't in complete darkness.

Pat stays silent. He watches as Tiffany pulls back the covers and gets in to bed, beside him. She pulls up the covers, over her body, as he pulls them up over himself. He turns towards her again and catches her looking at him.

"Tiffany..." he begins.

"Good night, Pat." she whispers.

She leans in and presses a kiss to his lips. He smiles and kisses her again.

"Night, Tiff." he answers.

He watches as she turns away from him and pulls the cover up entirely. He sighs, softly, and closes his eyes. Just as he feels himself dozing off, he feels Tiffany turning in bed. He thinks nothing of it until he feels her hand; she moves it slowly until she finds his waist and when she does she moves so that she's lying much closer to him.

He doesn't open his eyes, he doesn't say a word.

She rests her hand against his chest and releases a small sigh.

Pat hesitates. He lifts his right hand and slowly sets it down just below her waist, on her back. And he moves in the bed so that he's lying a little bit closer to her. They fall asleep quickly, peacefully, and with their arms around each other.

* * *

The morning sun is soft, when Pat wakes. It lights up the room in a warm yellow light. He yawns, loudly, and lifts his hand to cover his mouth. He then lifts his hands towards his eyes and rubs them. When he opens his eyes, he finds emptiness.

The space beside him, where Tiffany should be, is empty. She isn't beside him – she's not in the room

Pat frowns. He scratches at his forehead, with his left hand, before he moves so that he's sitting upright in bed. He yawns, again, and then scratches at the back of his neck.

"Tiffany?" he calls out.

Pat  
pauses, hearing movement in the kitchen.

"Tiff?" he calls out, louder this time.

He receives no response.

He pulls his legs towards the side of the bed and stretches them out before he stands. He walks slowly towards the door, opening it as he reaches it. He steps out of the room and moves down towards the kitchen.

"Tiffany?" he repeats.

"What?" she answers.

He enters the kitchen to find Tiffany, dressed in a pair of black tights, runners and a red jacket, moving around in the kitchen. She has her back to Pat and only turns, briefly, to face him.

"Morning, sleepy-head." she adds, before turning back to the bench in front of her.

Pat frowns, slightly. "Sleepy-head?" he asks, his eyes flickering towards the clock on the wall. "It's 7:30." he says.

She doesn't answer.

"What are you doing up?" he asks, as he takes a step towards her.

"You took care of dinner last night. I'm taking care of breakfast. Anyway, I didn't want to be a shitty host." she says, honestly, with her back still to him.

Pat sighs. "You're not a shitty host, Tiff. I had a good night." he says.

She scoffs.

"What?" he asks, a small smile resting on his features.

"A good night?" she asks, disbelieving.

"I had a good night." Pat answers, honestly, because he did. "What about you?" he asks.

"What about me?" she replies.

"Was your night good? Just okay? Shitty?" he asks.

She smirks. "Real shitty." she teases.

"Tiffany..." he sighs, smiling.

"It was good, Pat." she says. "Just as good as these strawberries look." she adds, as she turns around to face him.

He glances down towards the plate in her hand; a bowl filed with strawberries, grapes, bananas and grapes. He smiles at this.

"What- what is this?" Pat asks.

Tiffany frowns slightly.

"Fruit." she answers.

"I mean – this wasn't in your fridge." he says.

"I know. I went out to get it." she admits, as she steps past Pat and moves towards the table.

She places the bowl down on to the table and returns to the kitchen, pulling two glasses down from a cupboard.

"You went all the way to the store, for fruit, for breakfast?" he asks, watching her still.

"Okay, so for one – the grocery store is two minutes down the road. And two...It's not like we had anything else to eat." Tiffany replies, quickly.

She fills the two glasses with apple juice, Pat's favorite, and turns to face him.

"Don't act like it's such a big deal." Tiffany adds.

He glances down at the glasses in her hand and then takes a side step so that he may see the carton, that rests on the bench. His smile widens.

"How did you know?" he asks.

"Know what, Pat?" she asks, passing the two glasses to him.

He takes the glasses.

"That's my favourite brand of apple juice." he states.

She simply holds his gaze.

"When do you talk to my mother?" he exclaims, loudly, still smiling. "I mean – you're with me most of the time. You talk on the phone to her – when? About me?" he asks.

Tiffany rolls her eyes. "Don't freak out, Pat." she says.

He shakes his head. "I'm not freaking out." he assures her, because he isn't.

He's just curious.

"I called her, okay?" Tiffany admits. "Can we just drop it, now?" she asks.

He nods. "It's dropped. And this..." he says, gesturing towards the bowl. "Look delicious." he states.

For a second, and only a brief second, he thinks about sitting down at the chair but he quickly decides against it because if anyone is going to sit down, it's going to be Tiffany.

"Pat." she sighs. "Just sit down." she says, like she's just read his thought.

He places the glasses down on to the table and glances back at her. She shoots him a look, a warning almost, to sit down and he lifts his hands up in the air.

"Okay. Okay." he says.

He pauses before he sits down, slowly, on the chair. "It looks delicious." he repeats.

Pat takes a bite of a strawberry and finds that it is sweet, and delicious. He eats three more strawberries before Tiffany joins him. She stands next to him, for a moment, as she drinks from the glass of juice. She contemplates kneeling, or sitting on the table.

"I've got an idea." Pat states.

And before Tiffany understands this idea, and before Pat even shares this idea, he takes her gently by the ways and directs her so that she's sitting, sideways, on his knees.

She manages a small smile. "Aren't I..." she begins.

"What?" he asks.

"Hurting your knees...I'll just..." she answers.

"Hurting my knees?" he asks.

He scoffs, loudly, and then manages a small laugh.

"You're a twig, Tiff." he states.

He notes a slight change in her expression.

"Not that I'm saying you couldn't hurt me, because you could – physically, I mean, with fists and what not. I mean, if you wanted. You're fit - Okay, so I'm just going to stop, I think..." Pat answers; he speaks quickly, loudly, and the grin falters on his face as he does.

Tiffany grins, and this grin soon turns into a laugh.

"What?" he asks, smiling again.

"Nothing." she answers.

"Nothing?" he asks.

"Yep." she replies, smiling.

They eat breakfast slowly, enjoying the sweetness of the fruit and the flavor of Pat's favorite apple juice.

Tiffany stays resting on Pat's knees, he leaves his right hand resting gently on her back so to support her back and to stop her from falling – but also because he likes to hold her, to feel close to her, and in this moment he does feel close to her and he forgets about what happened last night at the restaurant.

And Tiffany forgets about it, too. She forgets about it because whenever she is with Pat, she eventually forgets the bad things because he makes her feel better, he makes her feel good, and he makes her wanted to be better.

"Let me make it up to you." Tiffany suggest, breaking the comfortable silence which they had, for a moment, fallen in to.

Pat looks up at Tiffany, his hand still around her waist.

"What?" he asks.

"I want to make it up to you." she states.

Tiffany pauses. "Come on, Pat. Last night was shitty. You had this incredibly sweet gesture and I...I just fucked it right up." she says, briefly avoiding his gaze.

"Tiffany," he sighs. "You didn't fuck it up. Okay? Trust me." he insists.

She doesn't believe him.

"I'll pick you up at eight?" she asks.

Pat grins. He could never say no to her.

"Don't be late.." he smiles, pressing a quick kiss to her lips.

* * *

"You're late." Pat exclaims, as he opens the front door to find Tiffany standing there.

She's dressed in the same black trench coat as last night, her brown hair curled and pulled up, with the exception of her fringe.

She rolls her eyes. "I'm not late, Pat."

"It's 8:01." Pat counters, quickly.

She casts a quick look over Pat to find that he is wearing a pair of black pants, a blue shirt and a gray jacket, with a hood, on top. He smiles at her.

Tiffany smirks. "You want to go or not?" she asks.

"Of course I do." Pat smiles.

He pauses before he steps forward and presses a kiss to her lips. "Hi." he says, smiling, as he pulls away briefly.

She smiles, pulling him towards her again. "Hi." she says, after pressing a kiss to his lips.

"Tiffany, is that you?" Pat Snr. calls out.

"Yeah, it's Tiffany." Pat yells back.

"Come in!" Pat Snr. suggests, as he nears the open doorway.

Dolores appears behind him, a warm smile on her face. "Come in?" she suggests.

"We're going out, to dinner." Pat states.

Dolores smiles. "Have a nice time." she says.

"Dinner another time, maybe?" Tiffany suggests.

Pat Snr. nods. "Why don't you come over tomorrow night? If you're not doing anything?" he suggests.

"Okay." Tiffany smiles. "Tomorrow night is good for me." she says.

"Good." Dolores smiles. "Have a nice night you two!" she exclaims.

"Here." Pat Snr. begins, stepping towards Tiffany and Pat as he speaks. He holds out his car keys. "Take the car. Just don't hit anything, don't scratch it." he adds.

Pat smiles. "Thanks."

* * *

As Tiffany catches Pat glancing at her, from the passenger seat, she sighs.

"What, Pat?" she asks, returning her full attention to the road.

Tiffany was driving because she knew where they were going and Pat had no idea.

"Nothing." he answers, a little too quickly.

"Come on, Pat." she says.

He pauses. "You don't have to come tomorrow night, if you don't want." he states.

Tiffany frowns.

"And why wouldn't I want to?" she asks.

Pat shrugs. "I don't know." he murmurs.

"No, you do know, Pat." she replies, sharply. "What, don't you want me there?" she asks, her insecurities quickly slipping back in.

"Of course I do. But I thought...You might be getting sick of it..." he suggests.

"Sick of what?" she asks, a frown still on her face. "Of you? Of your family?" she asks. "Your family is great, Pat." she says.

"They can be a bit full on." he admits.

Tiffany laughs; she laughs loudly, and for quiet some time.

"Pat, your family are great. You and me – We're full on. They put up with us." she says, quickly, smiling.

Pat smirks. "You're sure?" he asks.

"I'm sure." she replies, quickly.

"But you..." she begins, a smile threatening to form on her lips. "You're okay." she answers.

Pat smirks. "What?" he asks.

She shrugs slightly. "I mean you parents, they're great. You're okay. And I mean, this is a little awkward but I think I'm the daughter they never had." Tiffany says, grinning, teasing Pat because of what he said about being the son her parents wanted.

Pat laughs, loudly. "You're really funny, has anyone ever told you that?" he asks, sarcastically.

She pauses. "Well, I've been called a lot of things but I don't recall funny being on the list." she states.

"Oh, yeah?" he asks. "You should start a new one." Pat suggests.

A frown flickers on her features.

"Start a new what?" she replies, briefly glancing towards him.

"A new list." he answers. "I've got a word for you." he says.

"What is it, excelsior?" she asks, smiling.

"No, it's not. How about...Okay?" he teases.

"Shut up, Pat." Tiffany rolls her eyes, smiling.

Pat's laugh grows. "Alright...Alright. Here's the word..." he begins, composing himself so he becomes more serious. "Perfect." he says.

Tiffany laughs, now. She laughs loudly, heartily, and for quite some time.

"What?" Pat asks. "What's funny? It's true." Pat adds.

"It's bullshit, Pat." she counters, quickly, still smiling.

"It's not bullshit, Tiff." he says, his face more serious than seconds earlier.

She is perfect, to him. She's perfect for him too.

"You are." Pat insists.

"You're sweet, Pat. But you're wrong." Tiffany answers, with a smile faltering on her face.

"You're serious?" she asks, the smile fading away from her pace. "Pat, I am a lot of things and perfect sure isn't one of them." she states.

"To me, you are." Pat insists.

Tiffany simply shakes her head.

"What?" he asks.

"You're wrong." she says, simply.

"No, I'm not. I'm not wrong." Pat counters, quickly. "You can't see it, you don't want to and that's why you think you're not." he says.

"Thanks for telling me what I think, Professor X." Tiffany mutters, lowly.

"Tiff, come on. I'm just calling it like it is." Pat states.

He pauses.

"I'm just reading the signs, and the signs say you're perfect." he says.

She glances towards him quickly.

While grinning, Pat asks, "And when have the signs ever been wrong?"

* * *

**A/N: Hi all :) Firstly, wow! I can't believe how much response I received for this story. Thank you so much to everyone who read this story, it means so much, and to those of you who reviewed it, and made this story a favourite or followed it thank you very much. I'm so appreciative and also relieved that you enjoy it, and I hope you enjoy this new chapter.**

**I apologise for the delay in updates, I'll try to be much faster on the next chapter. I also apologise for any spelling errors.**

**I hope you enjoy this chapter, I'm not so sure on it but I hope you like it.**

**Thanks, enjoy.**

**X**

* * *

**Dear guest reviewer; Marcela Varela - Thank you so much for reading and reviewing. I'm very happy that you liked it a lot. :) I hope you continue to like the chapters. Thanks so much!**

**Dear guest reviewer; Neva - Thanks very much for reviewing and reading my story! I'm really, really happy you thought that this chapter was really great. :) Thank you. **

**Dear guest reviewer; anonymous - I will be continuing writing :) I won't spoil who she saw, but you're on the right track when you say someone she's been with her bad years and they might come back in future chapters. Let me know if you like what happened at her house. Thanks so much for reading and reviewing my story.**

**Dear guest reviewer; Laura - Wow, thank you so much! :) I'm so happy you thought it was so good so far, and I hope that you do enjoy this chapter.**

**Dear guest reviewer; Shep - Thanks so much for reading and reviewing, and I'm really happy that you thought it was an awesome start. I hope you like this chapter. :)**


	3. Silver sky

**Disclaimer: Silver Linings Playbook is copyright to Matthew Quick and David O Russel. All Rights Reserved. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made. I claim and own nothing.**

* * *

Tiffany parks the car outside a bar, which Pat has never been to before, which is surrounded by many parked cars and bikes. The building is constructed of brick, painted with a dark brown coat, and has clear glass windows. A long veranda runs across the front of the building, a large set of stairs stand at the front of the bar. She switches off the engine and reaches for her purse.

They get out of the car, simultaneously, and after locking it she places the keys inside her purse and joins Pat, who is waiting for her by his door.

"This place seems nice." he says, smiling at her as he glances towards her.

"I like it." Tiffany replies.

As they reach the front doors, Pat steps forwards and opens the door for Tiffany, allowing her to step through. She steps through silently, and Pat follows after her.

The room is lit up with dull lights hanging from the room, a jukebox plays in the corner of the room, crowds are formed watching the television hanging from the roof, laughing, eating and some dancing. Tiffany spots a table in the middle of the room; a tall, small table with two empty chairs.

She gestures towards it.

"You get the seats, I'll get the beer." she states.

Pat grins and nods. "Alright." he calls back.

Pat moves away from Tiffany and steps towards the table. He sits down on one of the seats, shifting in the seat several times before glancing up to find Tiffany walking towards him.

"One for you," Tiffany begins, placing the beer down on the coaster in front of Pat. "And one for me." she says, putting the beer down on her own coaster.

She pulls herself up on to the seat, next to Pat, and glances towards him.

"You hungry?" he asks.

She shrugs, slightly. "Yeah, you?" she asks.

"Yeah, yeah. You know, I was thinking, since breakfast was on you then dinner is on me?" he suggests.

As he notices that Tiffany seem like she might object, he speaks loudly.

"Ah, no, no, don't." he says, quickly. "You don't really have a say in it." he adds.

"I don't have a say?" she asks, raising her eyebrows slightly.

"You don't." he says, firmly despite that he is grinning.

Tiffany's smile widens.

"What?" Pat asks.

"You look good, like this." Tiffany says, after a moment of hesitation.

Despite that he frowns slightly, Pat grins. "What?" he asks. "Like this...You-You're saying I don't look good in a suit?" he asks.

"No, you do." Tiffany nods. "You look great in a suit." she adds.

Pat pauses. "Then, what?" he asks, finally.

"I just...I like your hoods." she admits.

Pat nods once, standing from his chair as he does.

"Hey, watch it," he begins. "Next thing you know, you'll be wearing one of my hoods – and we know how big of a commitment that is." he adds, grinning widely.

Tiffany almost rolls her eyes.

"Are you ever going to drop that?" she asks.

He sighs. "Probably not." he says, smiling still, before he steps away and begins walking towards the bar.

Tiffany watches Pat as he walks towards the bar, not lifting her eyes away from him once. The smile remains on her face as she watches him step up to the bar, lean over it and order their meals.

Pat glances up, towards the man sitting beside him who reeks of alcohol, and finds he is already watching him.

Pat manages a small smile before he returns his attention towards the waitress, who he is waiting to return so that he may see a menu.

"I'm sorry," Pat begins, noting that the man is still watching him. "Can I help you?" he asks.

"I saw you entered with that brunette." the man comments. "Over there." he adds, gesturing towards Tiffany.

Pat simply nods, not looking back at the man.

"You uh, you know if she's seeing anybody?" the man asks.

"Uh, yeah. Me." Pat replies.

The man casts a look over him. "You lucky bastard," he states, grinning widely. "You know, I heard 'bout her from a friend." he says.

"Oh, yeah?" Pat asks, attempting to remain calm as he takes the menu from the waitress.

He is careful to keep his attention focused completely on the menu, as he hears the next words.

"Yeah, said she liked to get around, you know." the man states, laughing dryly.

"Yeah, well, she's not like that anymore." Pat replies, through teeth which are almost gritted, as he decides upon what to order.

Two cheeseburgers and a bowl of fries.

He orders their meals and passes the menu back to the waitress. Then, he orders two more beers. When the waitress returns, he hands her the correct amount of money.

"I mean, she's gotta be like – what, half your age?" the man questions.

"Look, I'm saying this nicely, but why don't you shut your mouth, alright? Before I shut it for you." Pat replies, angrily, as he shoves his wallet in to his pocket and picks the beers up from the bench.

He meets the man's gaze. "Alright?" Pat says.

The man smirks. "Alright." he nods.

Pat turns away from the man and glances towards Tiffany, finding that she witnessed their entire conversation from her seat. She wouldn't have caught the words, she couldn't have, she's too far away and there's music playing loudly. But from the expression she now wears on her face, she must have caught something.

"Dinner's ordered." Pat calls out, as he re-joins her, taking his seat.

"What happened?" she asks.

Pat frowns. "What?" he asks.

"Don't play dumb, Pat." Tiffany replies.

"I'm not playing anything." he replies, quickly.

"What did he say?" Tiffany asks, watching him carefully, closely, and intently.

"Nothing." Pat murmurs, setting her beer down on to the table.

"Pat?" she says, firmly.

"Nothing." he repeats.

Tiffany sighs.

"Oh, come on." she says. "He was not silent and he did not say the word 'nothing', so he didn't say nothing. You talked." she states.

"Drop it, okay?" Pat says, finally meeting her gaze. "It's nothing." he insists.

"Pat, don't..." Tiffany begins, pausing to release a small sigh. "Don't do this, okay?" she says. "Just breathe and tell me what he said." she adds.

Pat shakes his head, repeatedly. "Like you told me what happened last night?" he asks, tilting his head slightly to the side. "Why you stormed out?" he says.

Tiffany physically stiffens up, she appears to become colder, her expression shifts and becomes harder.

"I..." she begins.

"Thought I was just gonna drop it?" he asks, quickly cutting over her so she is unable to finish her sentence.

Tiffany sighs, loudly. "I thought we were fine, Pat." she announces.

He nods once. "We are fine, Tiff. We're good." he insists.

She hesitates. "Then, what is this?" she asks, the confusion clear in her voice.

"You didn't want to talk about that, I don't want to talk about this." Pat states, speaking quickly. "Can't we just drop it?" he asks her, because he doesn't want to talk about it.

"Pat," she sighs. "What the fuck is going on?" she asks, still watching him closely.

He shifts in his seat, releasing a loud sigh as he does. "Nothing," he states. "Nothing is going on, Tiffany." he replies.

"Pat..." she begins.

He meets her gaze directly. "Can't we drop it?" he asks.

She stays silent for a moment before she softly sighs.

"Okay," she murmurs. "Okay." she repeats.

"I'm just – Let's...Let's start this again, okay?" Pat states.

With no explanation, he stands from his chair and moves towards the male restroom, leaving Tiffany deeply confused on her chair.

"Pat?" she calls out, after him, but he doesn't look back.

Seconds later, after entering the restroom, he exits and smiles at her as he waves at her.

She begins to laugh as he nears her.

"Hey, Tiff. You look great." he states, leaning in and pressing a kiss to her cheek. "It's good to see you." he says, like he's only just seen her now.

She shakes her head. "You're crazy."" she grins.

"Aren't we all?" he murmurs, taking a seat beside her. "You bought drinks? What a thoughtful idea." he says, his smile widening as he speaks.

"Well, you know, I'm pretty thoughtful." Tiffany counters, smiling.

The smile remains on her face as she slides herself out of her trench coat, removing it entirely from her body and placing it on the back of her chair, to reveal a dark blue, long sleeved, lacy blue dress on top of a pair of black stockings.

His smile remains, his eyes almost widen, as he casts a long and obvious look over her.

"I'm not – I'm not staring." he states.

She smirks.

"I'm not but you, you look great, Tiff. You look more than great." Pat says, quickly.

"What's more than great?" she asks, tilting her head to the side.

He shrugs. "Oh, I don't know...How about perfect? You look perfect." he answers.

Tiffany sighs loudly as she pops the lid off of her beer bottle.

"Not this again?" she asks.

He nods.

"This again." he grins.

Tiffany begins, loudly, "Look, Pat, I am-"

"I know, you've been called a lot of things, perfect isn't on your list, all that. But, you know what? Who cares what they think, who cares what anyone thinks?" Pat says, speaking quickly and softly.

"I don't care." Tiffany answers, sharply.

"I know that but, look...Just, listen to me. What I'm trying to say is who gives a fuck what people think or call you? It doesn't matter. What matters is what I think of you, and you know what I think about you." he says, keeping his eyes firmly and intently on her as he speaks.

She shifts under his gaze.

"If I agree, can we stop talking about it?" she asks, seriously.

He nods repeatedly.

"Okay, fine!" she sighs, loudly. "I agree. Let's move on." she suggests.

"But you do." he adds.

As he notices her frown, he quickly says, "You look great. You always do."

Instead of a sarcastic reply, she simply smiles.

"You want to dance?" she asks.

He frowns slightly. "What?" he grins.

"You want to dance?" she asks.

He grins. "Do I want to dance?" he asks.

She nods, still smiling.

"Of course I do but you, you've got two left feet." Pat counters, quickly, while wearing a mischievous grin on his face.

Her smile remains.

"I have two left feet?" she asks.

Pat nods quickly.

"You have two left feet." he states.

"I have two left feet?" she repeats, loudly.

"You have two left feet." Pat repeats, while still wearing the same grin.

She scoffs, almost snorting. "Oh, yeah, coming from Mr-I-can't-even-hold-someone-up-in-the-air-for-two -seconds." she replies, quickly.

He laughs.

The smile falters as he murmurs, "Can you believe that was only two days ago? Two days?! I can't..."

"What?" she asks, watching him closely.

"I can't believe it's been two days. It feels longer than that. Longer than two days." he replies, quickly, before he takes a sip of his beer.

She frowns slightly. "Is that a bad thing?" she asks.

"Hell no." he answers, without hesitation. "No, no. I want to spend as much time as I can with you." he adds, quickly.

"You do?" she asks, still appearing uncertain.

"Come on, Tiff. Why else would I be here?" he sighs. "You know I love you, I want to spend every day with you." he admits, honestly.

"And that, right there, is why you're crazy." she states, gesturing towards Pat as she speaks.

"I'm crazy?" he asks, shifting in his seat. "Go on, tell me why – Am I crazy for loving you? Crazy for feeling so blue?" he asks, the smile reappearing and spreading across his features.

She covers her face up, as she mutters, "Oh, god."

"Go on, tell me." Pat says, laughing as he speaks.

She sighs as she slowly lowers her hands down from her face.

"You won't spend every day with me, you can't." she states, sounding so sure and so sad that he won't be able to spend every day with her. "It's physically impossible. I'll annoy you, drive you away." she says.

He shakes his head. "I'll just annoy you right back." he counters.

She pauses. "I'll piss you off." she states.

He smirks. "Well, Tiff, I think it's a given that we're going to piss each other off at some stage." he answers.

She shakes her head once.

"I'll drive you crazy." she announces.

He smiles. "Little late for that." he replies.

"Pat, I'm serious. I just..." Tiffany says, falling silent as she sighs softly.

"What?" he asks.

"If we spend too much time together-" she begins.

"There's no way we could spend 'too' much time together, Tiffany. I fear we won't spend enough time together." Pat answers, his eyes set on her as he speaks.

"Well, you said it, we have all the time we want. Together. If you want it." Tiffany answers, after a silent moment of contemplation.

Pat's grin widens. "Of course I want it. You know I do." he answers.

"Great." she smiles.

"Perfect." he counters.

She shakes her head once before she suggests, "Come on, let's dance."

"Okay, but I'm worried – just my feet are worried, for their safety, your feet are just ruthless." he states, unable to stop the smile from spreading further on to his features.

She laughs, loudly. "My feet are ruthless?" she asks, standing slowly from her chair as she speaks.

Pat shrugs.

"What are they, like size fourteen, men? Sixteen? Twenty?" he teases, still grinning wildly.

She pauses before she states, "Well, you know what they say about big feet."

He bursts out laughing. "No, I don't. I've never heard the female version of that. Please, do tell."

"You'll never know, because you we're being too much of a smart-ass to find out." Tiffany announces, softly, before she steps away from Pat and moves towards the dance floor.

He quickly trails after her.

"What do big feet in women mean?" he calls out, loudly.

"They mean, the bigger the feet they have to kick men in certain areas." she counters, slowly turning around to face him as she speaks.

"Now that I reflect on it, and I've been doing a lot of reflecting, I think your feet are tiny." Pat grins, taking Tiffany by the hands as he speaks.

He pulls her towards him, placing a soft kiss to her forehead. "Miniscule. Do you even have feet? I can't see anything. Nothing there." he murmurs, softly, before he steps back slightly and takes her hands.

They move quickly, to the beat of the song which is fast. His hands momentarily slide down to her waist, as they dance, closely, quickly, together. He takes her right hand and spins her outwards before pulling her in to his chest.

The music fades out, in seconds, and a much slower, softer song comes on. Tiffany moves slowly, so that she is standing before Pat. She pauses before she slowly takes his right hand with her left and places it on to her waist. He takes her right hand with his left hand and holds it as they begin moving slowly, taking small steps, as the song continues. He pulls her closer, so that their bodies are almost pressed completely against each other.

She smiles at him.

"What?" he asks, softly, his eyes flickering over her as he speaks.

Her smile remains.

"I'm thinking." she admits, murmuring the words.

"Oh, yeah? About what?" he questions. "What exit will get you out of here, away from me, the fastest?" Pat teases

"No." she answers, the smile faltering on her face. "I was thinking that I'm lucky." she states.

These words surprise Pat, they almost catch him off guard.

"Really?" he asks, a smile obviously playing on his lips.

"Yes." Tiffany answers, straightening up slightly.

"Lucky for what?" he asks. "That you have such a talented dance partner?" he questions.

She laughs.

"Hey." he says, feigning offense.

"Okay." she answers.

He frowns ever so slightly. "Okay?" he asks.

"Lucky to have had you as a dance partner. Lucky I met you." she mutters, purposefully avoiding his gaze.

"I guess so." he whispers, as she sets her head down on to his shoulder.

"Tiff..." he whispers, softly.

"Mmm...?" she murmurs.

"Our dinner's ready." he smiles.

She pulls back, a small smile resting on her face. "Good. I'm starving." she admits, pulling back slightly. "I'll get more beer?" she suggests.

"You are perfect!" he exclaims, pressing a quick kiss to her lips.

"You're still crazy." she teases, before she places a quick kiss on his lips. "I'll be back." she adds, but as she moves to take a step away she finds that she can't.

Pat continues to hold her left hand.

"I'll be right back, Pat." she says, still smiling.

"I know, sometimes it's just hard to let you go." he admits, as he slowly releases her hand.

"You'll never have to let me go, completely. Just momentarily." she admits.

"I like the sound of that." Pat shouts out, over the music, as he watches Tiffany move towards the bar to order new beers.

She turns around, flashes him a quick smile, before she turns back towards the bar.

For a moment, Pat can't move. He can't take his eyes off of her and for a flickering second he can't believe that she is his, and he is hers, and he can't help but feel that this was how it was always supposed to be.

This is their shot, their silver lining, and he isn't going to let anything get in the way of it, or stop it.

He's never felt this way, before Tiffany, and he doubts he'll ever feel this way again – but he doesn't like to think about the possibility of their being someone after Tiffany. He doesn't want anyone else. He just wants her, he only wants her, and he believes he'll never want anyone else.

She consumes his thoughts, constantly. She's all that he thinks about. She makes him smile, more in one day than he smiled in the years without her, and sure, they make each other mad sometimes but sometimes madness can be good.

He needs her more than she knows, more than he realizes, and he knows he'll always feel this way about her because he could never stop loving her.

A small part, inside of Pat, worries that he'll ruin this, that he'll make a mess of things, and he'll lose her.

She comes back to him, as he always hopes that she will.

"Here you go." she says, placing the bottle of beer down in front of him. "Looks good." she says, her eyes flickering over their meal.

"Yeah, it does." Pat smiles, watching Tiffany still.

She meets his gaze and in seconds she understands that he is saying she looks good, he isn't talking about the burger.

Tiffany's face becomes serious, as she says, "Oh, no. Pat, there's no cheese on these burgers."

"What?" he frowns, his eyes glancing down towards the cheeseburgers.

He finds that there is cheese on them, so he doesn't understand why Tiffany would state otherwise.

"I don't..there's cheese, Tiff." he says, a small smile still resting on his features.

"Are you sure?" she asks, lifting her eyes to meet his. "I mean... I thought you must have, you know, swallowed all the cheese, Mr Cheesy." she teases.

"Mr Cheesy?" he laughs.

"Yeah, Mr Cheesy." she grins.

"Why? How am I cheesy?" he asks, gesturing towards himself. "How? I don't- I don't understand." he adds, his voice rising as he feigns offense.

"Oh, yeah, looks good." Tiffany says, pretending to mimic Pat with a deep, manly voice.

He grins. "Hey, I do not sound like that." he states.

She smiles at this, her smile quickly turns in to a laugh.

"You're just...I think I'm walking out. I'm done. I just-You've put me off cheese." he announces, sliding his plate forward.

"Oh, Pat, you know I'm teasing." she smiles.

"I know. Hey, just watch it. When you go in to the bathroom, they have towels – be careful, that's a pretty big commitment." Pat teases, loudly, with a grin on his face.

She laughs again. "Let's enjoy our meal, okay?"

"Okay but, you know, as soon as you touch the salt, bang. You're living in a house, in the burbs, and you're married to a salt shaker." he teases, his smile reappearing on his features as he speaks.

"Luckily, I don't put salt on my fries." she smiles.

* * *

After dinner, Pat manages to pull Tiffany back up on to the dance floor. The music is slower, softer, and it stays this way for a long time.

He places his hands around her waist, tightly, and he holds her as close as she can. Her arms rest around his neck, for quite some time, until she also lowers her hands to his chest and she holds him. She sets her head down on his shoulder, again, but this time it is different.

Their moment of being so close, to each other, isn't interrupted and they enjoy this moment for as long as it lasts.

"Tiffany..." Pat murmurs, softly, in her ear.

"Mmm...?" she replies.

"I don't want to let you go," he begins.

She smiles. "So don't."

"I won't. I plan on holding on to you forever...However, I don't think I can hold on." he replies, implying that because of all of the beer they drank he needs to use the bathroom.

Her smile widens, as she pulls away from him. "I'll warm the car up."

"Okay." Pat grins, pressing a quick kiss to her lips before moving towards the male bathroom.

Tiffany returns to their table, picks up her purse, and pulls on her trench coat. She pushes open the front doors as she reaches them, and steps outside in to the chilly night. She walks down slowly towards the car, fumbling with her keys as in her purse as she reaches the door. The keys slip from her hands and just as she bends down to pick them up, she hears a voice.

"Here, let me get those for you." a deep voice says.

She glances up to find a face she recognizes; the man she saw Pat talking to at the bar.

"Er, no. That's fine." Tiffany answers, quickly.

In a quick movement, she kneels down, scoops up the keys, and turns towards the man.

"Thanks, anyway" she adds, with a slightly awkward and uncomfortable smile.

He smiles back. "You're Tiffany, right? Tommy's girl?" he asks.

Her smile fades and as it does, she knows what he is asking – if she's Tommy's crazy, whore wife.

"I'm nobody's girl." she counters, because she's her own self and doesn't want to be labelled as someone's 'girl', or belonging to someone like property.

He steps forward, and as he does Tiffany realizes how much bigger he is than her; he towers down over her, and he appears to be much stronger than she is.

"Hi, Tiffany. My name is Tyler." he says, extending his hand to her.

She doesn't take his hand, she doesn't shake his hand.

"Good night, Tyler." Tiffany says, turning back towards the car door.

He moves closer, presses his body so it's right up against hers. She can feel his hot breath on the back of her neck, it causes her to quickly spin around. He catches her left wrist, tightly, and she knows it will bruise because he's holding it with such pressure, such strength.

"Leaving so soon, Tiffany?" he asks. "We haven't gotten to know each other, properly." he adds.

She pulls her wrist out of his grip. "I don't want to get to know you." she sharply replies.

He smiles. "Well, that's too bad. I want to get to know you." he murmurs, as he presses himself closer on her, so that there is no distance between them.

He runs his hand up, inside of her trench-coat, and up inside her dress.

"Get off me!" Tiffany shouts.

She tries to fight him, to shove him away, and she manages to push him a step away. But he grabs her, harshly, by the neck and slams her backwards in to the side of the car, pressing himself against her.

"What, you think you're better now? You think you're not a whore, anymore?" he growls, in her ear, as he harshly holds her head straight so that she is looking directly at him.

"Get off me, you piece of shit!" Tiffany curses, sharply and loudly, as she kicks him in the ankles.

She tries to hurt him, to cause him the pain which his words have caused her, but he grabs her tightly by the back of the neck and forces himself against her again. He digs his nails in to her bare thigh, tearing the skin and causing it to bleed.

She draws in a sharp breath of air.

"Whores like you never change." he hisses, cruelly.

"Hey!" a voice shouts out.

Some men, who were drinking inside the bar, vaguely heard the sound of a woman shouting out.

Tiffany glances up, quickly, to find three men coming down the stairs. The closest man, the tallest and biggest by far, with dark blonde hair lunges forward and pulls Tyler from Tiffany. He shoves him backwards, pushing him carelessly so that he falls on to the ground.

The second man, with short brown hair and a long beard, moves to Tiffany's side with the third man, bald with a greying moustache, follows him.

"He bothering you?" one of them asks.

She nods once but otherwise stays still, remains silent.

"It's okay." another assures her, setting a soft hand on her shoulder. "You're okay, now." he adds.

"Tiffany?" Pat calls out.

His voice is soft, and sweet, and returns her to reality.

She sets her eyes upon him, finding him at the bottom of the staircase.

He casts his eyes over her; he finds that her hair has fallen out of, in places, and now falls, messily, by her side. Her trench-coat has been opened, and her dress has been pulled up. She scrambles to pull it down, to cover her stockings again.

She feels empty but vulnerable. She feels numb but she also feels fearful, she feels horrible, she feels disgusted at herself. She feels pain, because of the cruel words he spat.

But as she meets Pat's gaze she feels a fear; she isn't fearful of Pat, because she never could be, she's fearful of what he might do as his eyes flicker over the man on the ground, over her torn dress and stockings, and she's fearful as he finally places the messy pieces of the puzzle together.

* * *

**A/N: Hi all :) First, I want to thank everyone who takes the time to read my story. It truly means so much to me and I don't think I'll ever be able to thank you enough. The response to this story has been great, it truly has, so thank you. Also, thanks so much to those of you who review. You not only make my day but also inspire me to write, so thanks.**

**Dear guest reviewer; Christina, who posted on chapter 2: **Hi! Thanks so much for reading and reviewing. I'm so happy you think my story is great, that means so much to me. :) I hope you like the new update.

**Dear guest reviewer; anonymous, who posted on chapter 2: **Thank you so much for reading and reviewing! I'm happy to read that you liked what happened at the house. I thought taking it slow was good for them, and true to their characters considering their pasts. Thank you, I'm very happy you thought it was sweet - I thought it was too. Wow, thanks so much for such a lovely compliment. I'm so relieved you thought the characterization was great. Thank you, reading that really boosts my confidence as I really want to try and stay in character for these two. I'm sorry about the delayed update, I will update much faster with the next one I promise. I hope that you enjoy this new chapter. Thanks so much. :)

**Dear guest reviewer; Laura, who posted on chapter 2:** Hi! Thank you so much for reading and reviewing. I'm so happy you thought it was a great chapter and thank you so much for saying I'm staying true to the characters from the movie - that is such a relief and it really boosts my confidence, in regards to this story, so really, thank you. I'm so happy that you can see these conversations because that's what I want, I want everyone who reads it to be able to see it. I apologise for the lateness in updating and I hope you enjoy this chapter. :)

**Dear guest reviewer; Clarice, who posted on chapter 2: **Wow, reading that truly makes my day. I am so happy it's everything you wanted and more. Thank you so much! :) I am so happy that you thought it was a perfect update, and so relieved as I was a little uncertain about. I'm so happy that you sort of imagine this as after the movie. I hope that the date doesn't disappoint, in this chapter. I can promise you that in a future chapter Tiffany is definitely going to open up to Pat about the first incident. It won't be the last you see (read) about the mystery man. Their first time will be special! Thank you so much for reading and reviewing. :)

**Again, I just want to apologise for the lateness. I will be updating much faster, for the next chapter, as I've already started writing it. I hope that you enjoy this chapter and please, let me know what you think. :)**

**Thanks for reading.**

**X**


	4. Silver lines

**Disclaimer: Silver Linings Playbook is copyright to Matthew Quick and David O Russel. All Rights Reserved. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made. I claim and own nothing.**

* * *

"Did they hurt you?" Pat calls out, almost shouting, as he moves quickly towards Tiffany's side.

At first, her words seem to get caught in her throat and she doesn't answer.

"Tiffany, did they hurt you?" he asks, again. "Did they touch-Did they?" he stutters.

She shakes her head, quickly.

"Pat, they didn't." she says, firmly. "They didn't. Nothing happened." she answers.

His eyes flicker over her before they set down on to her thigh; his fingertips brush over where the rip in the stocking and as he lifts his hand, he finds that it is painted with drops of crimson.

"Your bleeding." he states, sounding so sad and shattered.

He looks up at her, his face heavily guarded, his eyes appearing to water.

"Pat, don't." Tiffany says; as she speaks she tries to grab on to him, to stop him from snapping, from breaking, but she can't stop him. "Pat, they didn't. I'm not hurt. Let's go, let's just go home, please." she pleads.

But Pat can't stop himself.

He knows who did this, as he sets his eyes upon the man standing from the dirt. He was the man at the bar, who asked him about Tiffany. He lunges forward at the man, ignoring Tiffany's cry to not do anything.

Pat lands the first punch, directly hitting Tyler's nose but the blow doesn't stun him and he hits Pat back; they break out into a fight, an uncontrolled and violent fight which Pat holds the power in. He hits Tyler, repeatedly, and then Tyler hits him back.

"Pat, stop it." Tiffany shouts, trying to break up the fight.

Pat can't hear her, he can't see her.

"You piece of fucking shit." Pat growls, landing another punch in his face.

The blood, from these two men, stains both of their clothes.

"Pat!" she exclaims.

The fight continues until Pat is pulled backwards, by the man who pulled Tyler off of Tiffany at the start. He holds Pat, not harshly but so he won't kill Tyler. The other two men shout at Tyler before they decide to personally escort him to his vehicle, or mode of transportation, so they can ensure he leaves.

After releasing Pat, the man asks Tiffany if she is okay. After she manages to convince him that she's fine, he convinces her to go home, to which she replies they'll be leaving now. She thanks him, and his friends, before she searches for Pat.

She glances towards Pat, to find that he is pacing, his hands are resting against his forehead before the drop to his side, and then back to his face. He paces quickly, as Tiffany nears him.

"Pat." she says.

Her voice pulls him back.

"I should-I should..." he begins, his eyes darting around as he speaks.

"What, go after him? I'm fine. I just want to go home." Tiffany states.

He sets his eyes upon her, slowly. "You're fine?" he asks.

"I just want to go home." she answers.

"Okay." he says.

Pat moves forward like he might take her purse from her, so that he can drive home, but she doesn't let him.

"You're bleeding." she begins.

"So are you." Pat replies, remaining frighteningly impassive.

"You're worse, than I am. I'm driving home. We'll drop the car off at your parents tomorrow night." Tiffany states, before with slightly shaking hands she opens the car door and gets inside.

They ride in silence, on the trip home. The only sounds come when Pat sighs, or shifts in his seat. They don't speak because Pat is furious, with that sleaze and with himself for not being out there with her, and he doesn't know what to say. Tiffany doesn't want to talk about it, so she stays silent.

* * *

When they return to Tiffany's place, the lights are all off in the main house. They park the car outside of her place, she switches it off and gets out immediately. Pat trails after her, slowly.

He's not with it. He's too involved with the feelings of rage, and anger, which threaten to consume him if he allows them in but he doesn't allow these feelings in entirely, somehow he controls them.

Tiffany unlocks the front door with a key, allowing Pat to lock it with a bolt once he enters. As he turns around, he finds that she is gone. The second door, to the studio, is already opened and she is nowhere in sight.

"Tiff?" he calls out, as he moves down the hallway.

He takes quick steps, and finds her at the top of the staircase.

"What?" she calls back.

"I'm just..Nothing." he replies.

She turns away and continues moving up the stairs. She moves in to the kitchen and when Pat appears behind her, she doesn't turn to look at him.

"Wait for me in the bathroom." she instructs.

He doesn't move.

She can feel his eyes still on her.

"Pat, please." she sighs, sounding exhausted.

He listens, this time, and reluctantly walks down towards the bathroom. He turns the silver handle slowly and switches the light on. He closes the lid of the toilet and sits down on it, dropping his head in to his hands and releasing a deep sigh, which he'd been holding for quite some time.

Pat keeps his head in his hands while he waits for her.

And when she appears, she appears silently.

He only knows she is with him when he hears the bathroom door being closed. Pat glances up instantly. His eyes move towards the medical box, in her hands, and the small towel resting on top of the kit.

She sets the kit down on to the the bench and turns the cold tap, so that she may wet the cloth with water.

"How are you feeling?" she asks.

He hesitates.

"Be real." she adds, softly.

"Sore." he murmurs, finally, after allowing several minutes of silence to float between them.

She kneels down before Pat, lifting his head upwards as she does.

Without a word Tiffany begins to, with the damp cloth, wipe the blood away from Pat's face; she starts with his bloodied lip before she wipes away the blood on the cut underneath his right eye, then she wipes the blood off from the cut on his forehead.

She decides to tend to the injuries on his face first before checking for any more wounds elsewhere.

She smooths a small, antiseptic, ointment on the cuts on his face before she places clean, dry, bandages over them.

"There." she sighs, softly, as he presses the last bandage to his forehead. "Much better." she adds.

She instructs him on leaning backwards, sitting straight, before she takes his left hand and inspects it for any cuts. She finds that it is only slightly bloodied, so she takes a new, smaller, wash cloth and wipes the blood off of his hands. Then, she repeats this process on his right hand before she rinses the cloth and instructs that Pat hold it to his right cheek, which has the beginnings of a very dark, bad bruise.

Tiffany doesn't like seeing Pat like this; silent, in pain, hurting. She hates it. She hates that he is in pain and she hates knowing that she is to blame. If she had waited inside, none of this would have happened.

She caused him this pain.

"Still sore?" she asks, with a lowered voice.

He nods, once. "My ribs..." he mutters.

She asks Pat to stand, and he does. He removes his jacket, his hoodie, and his shirt and once all the garments are gone from his chest she is able to see if he has any wounds. A few, dark blue, bruises rest on his ribs and his stomach but apart from that there are no serious wounds.

"Tiff..." Pat whispers, softly, speaking for the first time in minutes.

She purposefully avoids his gaze.

He tries to pull her closer, by taking her hand and leading her towards him. She seems reluctant, almost, and she continues to avoid his direct gaze.

"What?" she sighs, because she doesn't want to do this.

But he wants to, he needs to, he has to do this.

He still holds her hand, and she doesn't pull away.

"I'm sorry..." he murmurs.

Those two words sting.

Pat shouldn't be sorry, he did nothing wrong. Tiffany can't believe he is apologizing for trying to protect her. She gets angrier at herself for not simply causing him pain but causing him to believe that he should have to apologize.

"Don't." she says, sharply, turning towards him.

"You did nothing wrong, Pat. Nothing." she states.

Her hold on his hand tightens, but in a reassuring way, in a way that conveys how much she needs him.

"Okay?" she checks.

He shifts, slightly, in his stance but still holds on to her hand, he still holds on to her.

"Listen to me, Pat, okay? Listen." Tiffany says, firmly. "You did nothing wrong, okay? And he – he did nothing to me, okay?" she says.

Pat is still disbelieving.

He shakes his head, quickly, as he lifts his hands up to his hands – and he lets her go, as he does this.

"You dress, Tiff, your dress it was-he..And there was blood, you were bleeding." he says, like he's suddenly just remembered about the blood.

His hand darts towards her leg, like he wants to check if she's okay, but her hand blocks his.

She takes his hand and holds it.

"Okay." Tiffany nods, pressing her lips tightly together.

Pat simply watches her.

"He put his hand in my coat, and then up my dress, but he didn't do anything else, Pat." Tiffany replies.

"But he wanted to. He fucking wanted to. And that's why...I can't-I won't-" he mutters, quickly, loudly, and angrily.

"He didn't, Pat. That's what matters. Okay? He doesn't matter to me." Tiffany says, loudly.

Pat shakes his head, several times, as he says, "I should have known, I should have fucking known, Tiff. He was talking to me, at the bar, about you."

There is a line that Pat wants to cross; he wants to find the man, the filth, that tried to hurt her and he wants to make him feel the pain he inflicted on Tiffany. But if Pat crosses that line, he knows he is risking so much. He could be charged with assault, sent away, or he could lose Tiffany.

She stiffens up, physically, but she continues to hold his gaze.

"What, did he talk to you too?" Pat asks.

He receives silence.

"Tiffany, what-what did he say?" Pat questions, his eyes set intently on her.

"Nothing." she replies.

"Come on." he insists.

"Nothing, Pat." she repeats.

"Tiffany..." he sighs, softly.

"He called me a whore, okay, Pat?!" she snaps, and as she speaks she pulls her hand out of his – she lets him go.

"He said whores like me don't fucking change. And he's right, we don't. We don't." Tiffany states, loudly, as she takes a step away from Pat.

"Don't." Pat shakes his head.

"Don't, what?" she replies.

"Don't call yourself that." he says, still shaking his head. "Don't listen to that filth." he adds.

She shakes her head, now, ignoring his words.

"Maybe he has a point, Pat. Maybe he's right and I haven't changed, maybe I never will." she counters, with a much more defeated tone.

"You have changed, okay? You've changed. You have." he insists.

"Maybe he's right." she repeats.

"Tiff, listen to me." Pat says, softly, taking her hands in his again. "He's wrong." he says.

She sighs.

"You don't know that, Pat. You didn't know me before." she answers.

"You're right, I didn't." he agrees. "But I know you now, and I love you now, and I know who you really are, even when you doubt who you are." he adds, with a much softer voice.

He receives silence again.

"Okay?" he asks, prompting her for a response.

"Okay." she answers, finally.

He sighs, softly, before he says, "Come here."

Pat pulls Tiffany towards him; he pulls her in to an embrace, he gently places his hands on her back and holds her, and she holds him tightly, and they stay like this for quite some time, for all the time that they need.

They need this time, just the two of them, holding each other.

* * *

When they finally pull away, Pat insists that Tiffany has a warm shower. She agrees, and quickly slips in to the shower. She soaks in the warmth of the shower, finding a peace in the warmth that it provides, before she turns off the water, steps out, and wraps a blue towel around herself.

As she glances up, at her own reflection, she comes to a quick halt.

The bruises have begun to set in, on her pale skin. What did he did to her, the pain he caused her, is clear.

A thick, dark, purple and blue bruise marks the skin around her left wrist. The skin around the bruise, and underneath it, is sore, raw and tender. Her eyes flicker up, towards her left shoulder, and she finds that it is also bruised.

He'd slammed her harshly in to the side of the car, twice, and as he did her side had ached, burned with pain, but she hadn't taken notice of it now. Slowly, she lifts away the side of her towel so that she may view her stomach; it is bruised, worse than her shoulder, but not as bad as her wrist. The bruise is purple, and spotted, and spreads down the side of her stomach and her waist. She turns around, slowly, and finds that her back wears a few, small, markings; purple bruises, scattered in places against her pale skin.

She doesn't want to look down at her leg, at her thigh, where he dug his nails in but she does; five nail marks, almost like cat scratches, mark her skin.

"Tiff?" Pat calls out, softly, from the door.

She straightens up, tightens the towel up around her body, and draws in a quick breath of air.

She can't let Pat see what he did, because she's afraid he'll lose it if he does.

"Tiff, you alright?" he asks, after noticing that she'd turned the water off a few minutes earlier.

"I think you should go." Tiffany calls back.

She doesn't want Pat to see her like this, she doesn't want anyone to see her like this.

"Tiff, can I come in?" he asks.

"I think you should go." she repeats, with a voice that is less confident, less sure, that she wants him to leave.

"I'm not leaving." Pat counters, quickly.

"I want you to, Pat." she lies.

"No, you don't." he states, seeing right through her lie.

She sighs, softly.

"Tiffany, let me in. he says, sternly.

He's almost pleading, almost begging, for her to let him in.

She hesitates.

"Why?" she asks, her eyes slowly moving towards the closed door.

She hears him sigh, loudly.

"I just want to make sure you're okay." he admits, softly.

"And I am." she replies.

"Tiff..." he sighs.

Her fingers move towards the door, she hesitates before she unlocks it and turns the handle.

"I'm fine, Pat." she states.

She opens the door slowly to find Pat standing on the opposite side, with the same jersey and pants that he had on last night.

"You sure?" he checks.

She nods. "I am." she smiles.

He pulls her towards him, so that she is much closer, and presses a kiss to her forehead.

"Go get dressed," he says, "I'll be in soon." he adds.

She frowns, slightly.

"Where are you going?" she asks.

He shakes his head.

"Tiff, don't worry-" he begins.

"Pat, where the fuck are you going?" she repeats, with a much louder tone. "Tell me you're not going-" she begins.

"I'm not going where you think I'm going, alright?" he says, raising his hands up, defensively, in the air. " I'm not. I just- I need a walk. Okay? I need a walk, I need to clear my head, I just need to walk." he repeats, quickly, as he takes a step back from Tiffany.

Her frown deepens.

She doesn't understand why he's pulling away, when a moment earlier he was pleading with her to let him in, to open the bathroom door.

"Pat, it's late." she counters.

"I'll be back soon." he announces, pressing another kiss to her forehead.

"Pat, just stay." she says.

He shakes his head.

"I'll be back soon, but don't wait up." he calls out.

Tiffany watches, silently, as Pat steps out of the corridor and eventually disappears from her vision. She sighs, loudly, before pressing her lips tightly together.

He shouldn't be out there, she should go out there, but she can't deny that she's tired and all that she feels like doing is lying down, in bed.

"Pat?" she calls out, loudly, in to the darkness.

She receives no response.

He's already gone.

* * *

Pat slips back in to Tiffany's place at five-thirty the next morning.

Outside, the sky was still dark from the previous night but the cracks of the morning light were slipping through. He locks the front door downstairs, with the key he'd picked up from the table on his way out, and then makes his way upstairs, on the staircase, in the dark.

He walks slowly, and tries to stay quiet so he does not wake Tiffany.

As he enters the hallway, he turns left and enters the bathroom. Pat washes his hands and then removes his hoodie and folds it up. Then, he slips off his shoes and leaves his socks on, placing his shoes in the corner of the room. Next, he lowers his head down as he fills the sink with water and splashes his face with it.

He never intended to stay out, this late, but once his walking had turned in to running and the time had escaped him.

He switched off the light in the bathroom and takes slower, quieter, steps towards Tiffany's bedroom; the door is still closed, as he reaches it, and he hesitates before he slowly grips the silver door handle and turns it.

He expects to find her in bed, with the sheets pulled over her, resting on a pillow, sleeping peacefully.

But she isn't sleeping, when he enters, she isn't even in her bed.

Tiffany sits at the edge of her bed, her knees pulled up to her chest, with her head resting on her knees and her arms wrapped around her legs. Her eyes are open, wide open, and as they rest on Pat she says nothing.

Pat comes to a halt in the doorway.

He doesn't understand. He feels fear as he wonders if she is hurt, or if something else happened.

"Tiff," he begins, quickly moving towards her side. "What are you doing up?" he asks.

He reaches out to touch her shoulder, as he kneels down in front of her, but she stands quickly from the bed and doesn't allow him to place his hand on her shoulder.

"What am _I _doing up?" she repeats, her voice echoing through the silent room.

Her hair is messy, her cheeks pale, her eyes are red and almost puffy. He knows that she hasn't slept.

"I was waiting for you," she states, almost accusingly, almost with a sad vulnerability slipping through.

"Tiff, I told you..." he sighs.

"Told me, what?" Tiffany replies. "Told me you'd be back soon? Told me it was just a walk? It's five thirty in the fucking morning, Pat. Five fucking thirty." she counters, angrily.

Pat shakes his head, slowly. He parts his lips like he might speak, but he stays silent for now as he isn't quiet sure what to say.

"Do you know what it's like? Do you? Waiting up for someone for five and a half hours? Going through the fucking possibilities in your head over, and over, and over again?" Tiffany asks, her voice unintentionally rising.

"Tiffany..." he sighs. "I was running, I lost track of time, I'm sorry." he says, taking a slight step towards her.

"You're sorry?" she asks. "You don't get it, do you, Pat?" "You don't fucking get." she shouts back, gesturing towards him. "You don't get it." she shouts.

"Explain it to me, then, Tiffany!" he says, his voice rising but not with anger, with a need, a desire, to know what it is that he doesn't get. "Explain it to me." he repeats.

"Every night he went out, I waited hours for him to come home. Hours of excruciating waiting, worrying about if would he come back hurt, if he'd come back at all. And it was the same with you. It was the same." she says, sadly.

"You thought I'd go after-" he begins.

"I didn't know if you'd come back beaten, or if you wouldn't come back at all because they called the cops on you." she replies, quickly. "I didn't know what happened, Pat, I didn't know where you were." she adds, sounding sadder as she speaks.

"I'm sorry, Tiff. Okay?" he announces. "I'm sorry. I messed up." he adds.

"You said you'd stay and you didn't." she states, accusingly.

"I'm sorry. I messed up, okay?" he repeats.

She falls silent as her eyes flicker over Pat; his bruises are worse, they are darker and bigger, and he looks tired, exhausted, and as she allows herself to truly look at him and take in his details she feels terrible. He looks beaten and unwell.

She lifts her right hand to her mouth, pressing her fingers against her lips.

"What?" Pat asks, frowning ever so slightly.

"Look at you." she says, with a much sadder, softer, voice in which the vulnerability that she feels slips.

"Tiffany, I'm fine." he insists.

Pat swallows tightly. "I should have stayed." he says, shaking his head.

"You're all bruised, and swollen..." she murmurs, softly.

"It doesn't hurt." he lies.

She can see right through this.

"Okay, it hurts a little bit." he admits, finally. "But I'm fine. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have left." he whispers.

Tiffany steps forward, without hesitation, and wraps her arms softly around Pat's chest. He lowers his hands to her back and holds her, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead as he does.

"I'm sorry..." he whispers.

She shakes her head, her grip around him tightening.

"It's my fault." she replies, lowly.

"It's not." he murmurs. "It's not your fault." he repeats.

"I'm sorry." Tiffany whispers.

"You have nothing to be sorry for." he murmurs.

They break the embrace; Tiffany steps back, slightly, and as she does Pat catches her hand softly however as he does, his fingers brush against her wrist.

Her bruised, slightly swollen, tender wrist.

She had tried not to make a sound, but she couldn't stop the small, almost inaudible, gasp as it passed her lips.

They were in silence, before, so there was no way that Pat might have missed it.

And he didn't miss it, this much was clear from the deeper frown now resting on his tired features.

He, carefully, rolls up the sleeve of her jersey so he may view her wrist; dark, purple and blue, bruises mark her soft skin.

Pat swallows tightly. He clenches his jaw and drops his hands from Tiffany's, they fall stiffly by his side. His hands form tight fist.

"Pat, it's nothing." Tiffany reassures him.

His eyes are set on the floor, not on Tiffany, for a moment.

"Pat..." she repeats.

"It's a bruise, Tiffany." Pat replies. "It isn't nothing, it's something..." he murmurs, drawing in a sharp breath mind sentence.

He lifts his hands up to his forehead and roughly runs them up, through his hair, and then down to the back of his neck.

"Pat, please, listen to me." Tiffany pleads.

He drops his hands to his side and listens.

"I don't want this." she says.

And for a flickering second, he fears she means she doesn't want _this_, as in _them_.

"What?" his voice cracks, as he speaks.

"I mean...I don't want things to be like this, Pat. I don't. Can't we forget about..." she stops, sighing softly. "Last night was almost perfect but I don't want to think about it that way. I want to remember it as being great, being perfect. I don't want to remember the end." she says.

He nods, quickly.

She takes a step closer.

"This is our silver lining, Pat. We deserve this, we deserve to be happy, don't we?" she asks, and despite that she had tried to stop it, a slip of vulnerability comes through on those last words.

_Don't we? Don't we deserve to be happy? Don't we deserve to have a silver lining? Don't we deserve to be happy?_

"We do." Pat nods, taking her hands and pressing a soft kiss to them. "We deserve everything we want, and more." he says.

She pulls him towards her, resting her hands softly on his bandaged and bruised cheeks, and kisses him. When their lips part, she rests her head against his forehead.

"You know what we deserve, right now?" she asks.

He stays silent, his big blue eyes watching her still.

She smiles.

"We deserve to sleep." she states.

He smiles, finally, and his smile is so great to see again.

"Do you have any plans for today?" he asks.

"Yeah, I do." she nods, sliding her hands around his waist so that she may hold him still.

His grin remains. "Doing what?" he asks.

"For the morning, I think I'll sleep. Go for a run in the afternoon. But later, tonight, that's when the real fun starts." she says.

"What fun would this be?" he asks.

"I'm having dinner, at my boyfriend's house with his parents." Tiffany replies, casually.

"Oh, really?" Pat says, his smile widening.

"Mh-hm." she murmurs.

Pat pauses.

"He's your boyfriend?" he asks.

She hesitates, slightly.

"I think so?" she replies, with a clear uncertainty in her voice.

"I think so, too." Pat agrees. "What's he like?" he asks.

She shrugs.

"He's okay." Tiffany replies.

"What?" Pat laughs, loudly. "He's just okay? I mean, to me – and this is just my personal opinion, but to me he sounds great." he says, his smile unable to disappear from his face.

"Great?" Tiffany asks.

"Yeah." Pat nods. "I mean, originally, I was going to say he was fantastic." he admits.

Her grin widens.

"Fantastic?" she repeats.

"Yeah, I think so. I mean, he sounds it." Pat agrees, nodding his head. "What do you think?" he asks.

She pretends to pause, to consider his question.

"Me?" she asks.

He nods.

"Personally? I think he's fantastic." she says, finally.

"Do you?" he replies.

"I do. But...Well, uh...It's sort of an awkward situation." Tiffany admits, her smile faltering on her lips.

Pat frowns, ever so slightly.

"Why is that?" he asks, not taking his eyes off of her.

"He's jealous... I mean, I think I'm the daughter his parents always wanted, they one they never have, so dinner could be potentially be awkward considering they like me more." she answers, the smile returning to her lips as she speaks, slowly.

"That seems right." Pat answers, with no hesitation and no sarcasm.

"What?" she frowns.

"People liking you more." Pat answers, casually. "You're likable." he states.

She scoffs loudly. "Oh, yeah."

"I think you are." he insists, smiling sweetly at her still.

Tiffany smiles back.

"You're sleepy." she states. "I think it's time to sleep." she adds.

Pat agrees.

She closes the curtains, so they are in the darkness together.

He and Tiffany move towards her made bed; he moves towards the farthest side and pulls back the blankets as he slides in, she does the same. He pulls the blankets up over himself, and then over her.

They stay silent for a moment, like neither is sure what to say.

Pat lifts the blankets back slightly, his eyes set down upon Tiffany's bruised wrist as he does. He hesitates before he gently places his fingers on her wrist, lifting it up slightly.

She doesn't fight him, she doesn't stop him. Instead she allows his eyes to move over the bruise, to take in each detail of it.

He doesn't get angry, not visibly anyway. He leans down and presses a soft kiss to the bruise before he sets her wrist down, where it had previously rested.

He looks up to find her smiling, softly.

"Night." she whispers, leaning forward and placing a kiss on his lips.

He smiles, as he closes his eyes.

"Goodnight." he replies.

They let sleep take them, and it takes them gently, peacefully, and gives them the rest which they so badly need.

* * *

**A/N: Hi all :) Firstly, I'd like to thank everyone who reads this story, it truly means so much to me and your response to my story has been great. I'm so glad that there are people out there enjoying reading it, so thank you. I apologise if this update is a little late, and also I'm sorry if there any spelling errors (hopefully, there are none).**

**Dear Guest Reviewer; Clarice; posted on chapter 3:  
**Hi, Clarice :) ! Thank you so much for reading and reviewing my story, it means so much to me. I won't say too much on what you said, in regards to it being a setback, but I will say that it could potentially place strain on their relationship in one of the coming chapters. You'll have to wait and see! :) Thanks for reading. x

**Dear Guest Reviewer; Guest; who posted on chapter 3 on the 4/17/13:(I'm just putting the date because there were two Guest reviewers as Guest)  
**Hi there, Guest :) Thank you very much for reviewing and reading my story. I'm so happy that you loved it, and I'm thankful that you are reading it, and I hope that you like this new update! x

**Dear Guest Reviewer; Guest; posted on chapter 3 on 4/13/13:  
**Hi, Guest :) Thank you for reading and reviewing, I'm so happy you loved it. I'm glad you thought it was a great job. I hope you liked Pat's reaction. x

**Dear Guest Reviewer, Laura, who posted on chapter 3:  
**Hi, Laura :) I'm very happy you loved this chapter too! Thank you for reading and reviewing, it truly means so much to me. Wow, I'm so happy and relieved that it's not predictable because I definitely don't want it to be. I hope you enjoy Pat's reaction to the bar mess :) And I will say this; his reaction won't be limited to this chapter, and it will come up in some upcoming ones. Sorry if that's a little cryptic. :) Thanks for reading. x

**Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy.**

**X**

* * *

My thoughts, prayers, and well-wishes are with all of those who have recently been impacted by the tragedies in Boston and Texas. We are all thinking of you, sending you positive thoughts, and are praying for you. You are resilient, and strong, and you will make it through these difficult times and come out stronger.

My deepest thoughts and prayers are constantly with you. xox


	5. Silver heart

******Disclaimer: Silver Linings Playbook is copyright to Matthew Quick and David O Russel. All Rights Reserved. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made. I claim and own nothing.**

* * *

Pat wakes first, at eleven thirty in the morning, finding Tiffany sleeping, still, softly by his side. For a moment he watches her, in silence, and he expects her to stir but he doesn't and for that he is partly relieved. He believes she still needs to rest, to sleep, and so he leaves her.

He pulls himself slowly from bed and takes silent, slow steps towards the door. He turns the handle quietly and exits the room. He grabs his shirt, and hoodie, from the bathroom and pulls the hoodie on. Next, he slips on his runners and heads downstairs, grabbing his car keys on the way.

He halts, his eyes searching the room for a piece of paper. If Tiffany wakes, he doesn't want her to think he slipped out for no reason.

He finds a piece of paper and scrawls on it with a pen; _Taking the car back, getting some food. I'll be back soon. Love, Pat._

He jogs down the stairs, through the front doors, and towards his car. He starts up the engine quickly and drives his father's car home. His parents are awake, in the living room, when he gets home.

"Pat?" Pat Sr. calls out, as he hears the front door opening.

"Yeah?" Pat shouts back.

"What are you doing back so late?" he asks.

Pat closes the front doors and enters the living room, finding his father at the dining table with papers spread out over it; he's figuring out the last plans for the diner, before the work starts in less than a week.

"Pat, is that you?" Dolores calls out, softly, from the kitchen.

"Fell asleep at Tiffany's, sorry." Pat replies.

"Alright, that's alright. Look, come here, I want your opinion on something-" Pat Sr. begins.

As he glances up, he finds Pat standing before him looking disheveled, tired, and beaten up. What parts of his face aren't bruised, or swollen slightly, have been covered with bandages.

"Oh, Pat." Dolores cries out, she stops walking the moment she notices.

"What did you do, Pat?" Pat Sr. asks, sounding tired. "What did you get yourself in to, Pat?" he asks.

"Nothing, I didn't do anything. I didn't get myself in to anything." Pat answers, quickly.

"Looks like you got yourself in to something, walking into a fucking brick wall." Pat Sr. states.

"Come here, Pat." Dolores says, softly.

"I'm alright-I'm alright." Pat insists, lifting his hands up in the air as he speaks. "I am. Tiffany took care of me." he says.

"Did she?" Dolores asks, still frowning. "Who did this to you, Pat? Who would want to do this to you?" she asks.

"Look, it was nothing." Pat sighs.

"It doesn't look like nothing." Pat Sr. counters.

"Alright, alright." Pat exclaims, loudly. "You know how Tiffany and I went out to dinner?" he asks.

Dolores nods, Pat Sr. stays silent.

"There was this guy, he went too far, alright?" Pat says. "I don't..I'm not getting in to it, I'm not. But I was just looking out for her, okay?" he says.

Dolores nods, quickly. "I'm gonna fix you something up to eat." he says.

"Oh, no, you don't have to do that." he says.

"Where's Tiffany now?" Pat Sr. Asks.

"Back at her place, sleeping." Pat replies.

"I'll make you two something." Dolores smiles, kindly.

She steps towards Pat and presses a soft kiss to his forehead. "I'll fix you two up something to eat." she repeats.

When Dolores has left the room, Pat Sr. stands from his chair and steps towards his son.

"What do you mean, he went too far?" Pat Sr. asks, the concern he feels clear on his face as he speaks.

"Don't want to talk about it. I really don't." Pat insists, unable to control himself, lower his voice, or stop pacing. "I just wanted to bring the car back." he announces, before he steps away.

"Pat, Pat hold up." Pat Sr. says, stepping as Pat does.

Pat comes to a stop.

"Look at me. Come on, Pat, look at me." Pat Sr. says.

Pat reluctantly turns to look at his father and waits silently.

"Are you okay, Pat?" Pat Sr. asks.

"What, me? Yeah, I'm fine. I'm fine." Pat insists.

"And Tiffany?" Pat Sr. questions.

"She's fine, she's fine." Pat replies. "We're still coming to dinner." he add.

"You don't have to do that." Pat Sr. answers.

Pat shakes his head. "We want to, everything's fine, don't worry about it." he answers.

"You're sure?" Pat Sr. asks.

Pat nods. "Sure. Yes, I'm sure. We're sure. It's all fine, trust me. We're good. It's under control." he states, quickly.

"We'll see you at dinner." Pat adds.

* * *

Pat returns to Tiffany's, dressed in a clean grey hoodie and brown pants, to find her in the kitchen, dressed in a clean, long sleeved, blue shirt and black tights. She glances up at him but stays silent.

"Did you see my note?" Pat asks, as he climbs the last stairs.

She nods.

"I come bearing gifts." Pat announces, holding up a brown paper bag in his hands.

"Strawberries, mango, apple, bananas, and grapes?" she asks.

Pat smiles, lifting his eyebrows slightly. "Who's being Professor X now?" he asks.

"Really, she called you?" he sighs.

"You slipped out?" she asks.

"You're avoiding my question." Pat counters, as he takes a step towards Tiffany.

Tiffany smiles. "Yes, just to let me know what you were bringing over...So I'd now if you ate anything on the way." she says.

Pat's grin widens, a small laugh escapes his lips.

"I was just returning the car." he says.

"Okay." Tiffany replies, the smile faltering.

"Okay?" he checks.

She nods.

"Okay." she repeats.

"Alright," Pat sighs.

"Well, here is breakfast..Or lunch. Or a combination of the two?" he says.

"Brunch?" Tiffany asks.

"I guess. I'd sit down on you but, you know, you're a twig and I'm a log." Pat says, his grin reappearing.

Tiffany sighs.

"You're not a log, Pat." she insists, but she stands anyway.

Pat places the bag down on the table.

She stands slowly and moves away from the chair, so Pat may sit down. He does, and without thinking, he places his hand on her waist and directs her to his knees so she may sit on his lap like she did the other morning. She sits down quietly and turns towards him, finding he is already watching her.

He pushes a strand of hair away from her face, watching her still.

"What?" she asks.

"What?" Pat asks, his head tilted to the side.

"You're staring again." she comments.

"What?" he asks, loudly. "I'm not-I'm not staring again. I never stare." he insists.

Tiffany pauses.

"You just watch, directly and unwaveringly, for sustained periods of time." she replies.

He grins. "Okay, so I'm staring. What's wrong with staring? What, is it creepy again?" he asks, becoming defensive.

"You're not creepy." she states.

"What's wrong with it?" Pat asks.

Tiffany hesitates.

"Nothing." she says.

"Nothing?" he asks, like he almost doesn't believe her.

"Yeah." she nods.

"Alright," Pat smiles. "Well, let's dig in to breakfast. Looks delicious, doesn't it?" he says.

He begins to pull the containers of fruit out of the bag with his left hand, his right hand remains around her waist as he does.

"Mm. It does." she agrees.

Silence momentarily reappears.

"Pat?" Tiffany asks.

"Yeah?" he answers, looking back up at Tiffany.

"Are we good?" she asks.

"What?" he asks.

"Are we good?" she repeats.

He frowns.

"Yeah, why wouldn't we be?" Pat questions, keeping his gaze solely set on her.

"I don't know." she shrugs.

"You don't know?" Pat checks. He pauses before he says, "You know, you know Tiff, come on."

"I mean, when I woke up..." she begins, softly.

"You thought I left you?" Pat asks, the disbelief slipping through. "You thought I was gone?" he asks.

"You're not getting rid of me that easily." he announces, loudly, and as he answers he sounds so sure, so certain, that he would never leave her.

"Yeah?" she asks.

"Yeah." he smiles.

Tiffany smiles.

"I don't want to ever get rid of you." she admits.

"Well, both luckily and unluckily for you, I'm never going anywhere." he grins. "Okay?" he says.

"Okay." she answers.

"Come here." Pat whispers.

He pulls her towards him and wraps both of his hands around her waist, so he's holding he tightly. She wraps her arms around his neck, tightly.

"Okay?" he whispers, in her ear.

She pulls away and presses a kiss to his lips. "Okay." she says, finally.

Pat smiles. "Good because after breakfast, or brunch, we're jogging and, I mean, we've gotta be good so that when I beat you back here, you won't be too mad." he says.

She grins. "You won't beat me." she replies, without hesitation.

"We'll see about that." Pat replies.

* * *

They decide that before they start the race, which will be the same track which they ran on those times they ran together in the past, they will step inside and say good morning to Tiffany's parents who offer them lunch, and coffee, but before Pat can refuse Tiffany is already out the front door, getting a head-start.

He runs after her, quickly, and is soon close enough so that when he calls out

"Cheater, cheater, pumpkin eater!" he shouts out, because it's the first thought that came in to his mind.

Tiffany bursts out with laughter.

"What?" he calls out.

"I don't eat pumpkin." she calls back, glancing back briefly to find Pat catching up.

She runs faster.

"Oh, that's strange. I naturally assumed that all cheaters are pumpkin eaters." he, loudly, replies.

Her grin remains until Pat she sees Pat nearing her, she runs faster but so doe she and soon enough they are equal – until Pat over takes her.

She stops running, coming to a quick halt, and grabs at her forehead.

Pat keeps running for a minute until he turns back and finds Tiffany slightly hunched over, her hands up to her head.

"Oh, come on." he sighs, assuming that she's playing.

But when she doesn't glance up, when she doesn't smile, he all but stumbles over his feet to get back over towards her.

"Hey," he says. "You okay? What's up?" he asks, speaking quickly.

"Nothing." she says, standing straight again.

She drops her hands to her side.

"Nothing, it's just a migraine. It's nothing." she insists, meeting his gaze finally.

"You're sure?" Pat asks. "I thought, I'll admit it – I thought you were playing you." he admits.

"What?" she frowns.

"I thought you were playing, to get a head start. And, you know, I'm sorry for assuming that." Pat states.

She smiles at Pat.

Now, he frowns.

"What?" he asks.

"Aw, Pat." she smiles, wider, as she takes a step towards him. "You thought I was cheating and you still came to check?" she asks.

His frown only deepens.

"Uh, yeah...?" he replies, with a clearly uncertain tone.

"You're so sweet, Pat." she says, softly. "And, so sexy." she states.

She pulls Pat towards her; she rests her hands on his cheeks and pulls him towards her, kissing him on the lips, she presses her body up against his.

His hands remain up in the air, as he feels her hands running up his back.

Her touch is distracting, her kisses are sweet.

"Tiffany..." he whispers, as she begins to press soft kisses to his neck.

She pulls away from Pat, instantly, and breaks out in to a fast run.

Pat stands dumbfounded for a moment, and still distracted.

"I don't understand what just happened?" he shouts out, his hands raised in the air.

She turns back, grinning.

"I lied, I eat pumpkins!" she answers.

She was trying to distract Pat, so she could get a head start.

Pat laughs, loudly, before he breaks out in to a run after her.

"I'm going to get you." he calls out. "And when I do I'm gonna make you pay, Tiffany!" he shouts out, much louder then he'd intended.

As he shouts these words out loudly, Pat glances towards a tall, strong-built man walking a yellow Labrador, watching Pat with a deep frown on his face. Now, Pat realizes how bad it must look for him to be chasing Tiffany shouting out what he did.

Pat comes to a halt.

"Nice dog." Pat comments.

The man remains unimpressed, his brow remains furrowed, as he comes to a stop in front of Pat.

"What is that, a Labrador?" Pat asks.

The man stays silent.

Pat sighs, loudly, almost nervously.

"It's okay, it's okay – we're together, actually, we're dating." Pat says, accidentally gesturing towards this largely built man as he speaks.

The man's frown remains, he looks like he wants to beat Pat up.

"Oh, no, no. Not us. Not me and the dog. Not me and you, either. That's wrong. That's disgusting – the dog bit. But you and me, no. I mean, if I was...not that I am. I didn't mean us, as in me and you." Pat says, laughing loudly as he finishes speaking.

The situation only gets worse.

"Oh god, no. Not us. You're not my type. Not that – not that you're not an attractive man, you are, but I prefer women. Your preference is your own, not my business." Pat says, speaking quickly, loudly, and scratching at the side of his head as he does.

"She – she is my girlfriend." Pat says.

"Sure she is." the man replies, finally.

"We're together." Pat insists.

"Sure you are." the man answers.

"Tiffany! Come back." Pat shouts out, loudly.

She turns back, smiles, but continues running.

"That's not even her real name, is it?" the man asks, remaining completely serious.

"Her name is Tiffany, she's my girlfriend and she is cheating – not on me. Not on me. She'd never cheat on me. She's cheating on the race we're having." Pat informs him.

"Mhmm." the man replies, impassively.

"You have a nice day." Pat answers, quickly, before he breaks out in to a run again.

When Tiffany returns to her place she finds that she is the first one back, and this causes a smile to tug at her features. She lowers her head down slightly as she unzips her jacket pocket, to find her key. But as she does, she feels a set of hands touching her shoulder.

A loud sound echoes through the air.

"Cheater, cheater, pumpkin eater!" Pat shouts.

But Tiffany doesn't know it's Pat – he jumps out from behind the side of her flat, setting his hands on her as she does.

Tiffany spins around and lands a punch; her first collides harshly with Pat's nose, causing the blood to immediately flow freely from it.

She notices that it is Pat seconds after landing the hit.

"What the fuck, Pat?!" Tiffany shouts, angrily.

Pat groans.

He grabs at his nose with his two hands, as he bends over. The blood spills quickly down his hands.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" she shouts.

"Oh, nothing, I just punched myself in the nose!" he replies, sarcastically, and loudly. "Why would you hit me? Why?" he asks.

"Why would you jump out on me?!" she yells.

"I wanted to scare you!" he answers.

"Great fucking job, Pat. Look at you!" she counters.

"Yeah, well I can't really do that right now since I'm bleeding from my nose!" he sharply answers.

Tiffany sighs loudly.

"Come inside." she says, as she moves towards the front door.

"I was actually considering going for another run." he sarcastically counters.

Tiffany turns towards Pat, steps closer, and lifts his hands up so they are covering his nose and his mouth.

"Don't get blood on the floor." she says.

His hands cover most of his facial reaction, but Pat becomes pretty vocal.

Pat's next words come out mumbled, she can't hear them properly because he's covering his mouth, and ever as Tiffany tries to speak he keeps talking.

"I can't understand you, Pat." she loudly announces, as she closes the door behind Pat.

He turns back towards her, his hands still covering his nose and mouth, and repeats what he said but again she doesn't understand.

"Okay, okay. I still didn't understand. I can't hear you. I can't hear you, Pat." she repeats, when his voice rises.

Still, his words aren't clear.

They go upstairs quickly, moving directly towards the bathroom. Tiffany opens the door for Pat and allows him to enter first. She leaves him in the bathroom while she returns to the kitchen, to get ice.

Pat leans over the sink and releases his hands from his nose, and his mouth.

Blood drips freely in to the sink. He spits, several times, before he attempts to wash the blood off of his hands.

Tiffany returns quickly.

"Here." she says.

She steps closer towards Pat and gently presses a cloth, with lots of ice inside, on his nose to stop the swelling.

"Does it hurt?" she asks.

Pat shrugs.

"Little bit." he answers, honestly, before he spits in the sink again.

Tiffany sighs.

"You shouldn't have scared me, Pat...But I'm sorry." she admits.

He manages a small smile.

"I was bound to get a punch to the nose sometime today." he replies.

Tiffany frowns slightly.

"What?" she asks.

"I won't go into the details, of a very awkward situation, but there was this man and I swear, he was going to beat me. I was waiting for it. And his dog – it had eyes for me. Not even those cute puppy dog, eyes that scream 'I'm going to rip you to shreds'. I thought, if the owner didn't get me, the dog was going to get up on it's back legs and just land a punch right to the nose."

"Oh, and you! You didn't think I'd forget about you, did you?" Pat asks.

"What?" she replies.

"Little miss pumpkin eater." he raises an eyebrow.

She keeps the ice pressed against his nose.

Tiffany smiles. "I had good intentions." she says.

Pat laughs and this laugh causes him to bump his nose up, into the cloth of ice, which hurts.

"Ow." he mutters. "I just – I can't believe you punched me. In the nose." he states.

"I had good intentions." she repeats.

Pat scoffs.

"How? How is cheating a good intention?" he asks.

Tiffany shifts slightly.

"Tiffany?" he says, sternly.

"Yes, Mr Solitano?" she replies, speaking like she's a student, teasing him.

Pat sighs.

"What were your intentions?" he asks.

She shrugs.

"Don't shrug." he states.

She shrugs three times, now, while a smile forms on her features.

"Tiffany." he repeats.

She shrugs again before she laughs, loudly.

"It was a surprise." she says.

"What was?" he questions.

She shrugs again, just to evoke a reaction in Pat.

He grins. "What was a surprise?" he asks.

"Well, it would hardly be a surprise if I told you." she counters.

He smiles.

"You're still going through with it?" he asks.

She nods.

"Sure. Once we get you cleaned up, you little mess." she smiles.

"I'm not a little mess." Pat mutters.

"You are but you're my little mess." she answers, softly, before she pulls the ice away from his nose. "And I'm yours, if you still want me?" she adds.

Pat scoffs. "How can you even ask that?" he asks. "How can – Of course, I want you. You're all I want." he answers.

"Even after I punched you in the nose?" she asks.

Pat smiles.

"Even after you punched me in the nose." he replies.

"Even though you're going to get two nasty black eyes?" she asks.

Pat's smile remains.

"Yes." he answers.

"Then, you are crazy." she states.

"Crazy for loving you, for feeling so blue?" he grins.

Tiffany simply smiles.

After leaving the ice on Pat's slightly swollen nose for fifteen more minutes, Tiffany had removed it and assessed it; it didn't appear broken, however she had somehow convinced Pat that they should go to the doctors.

They didn't spend long at the doctors, who told Pat his nose wasn't broken, or fractured, just swollen and that if the pain grew worse he could return and be prescribed something for it.

Pat's black eyes had started to come through; almost identical purple, dark bruises had formed around his eyes. The doctor had informed him that the bruises would be worse had it been a break and that the swelling should go down within the day, the bruises however would take a few weeks, at least, to disappear entirely.

"You look like a panda." Tiffany had chirped.

Pat wasn't able to see the funny side of it straight away.

"Okay, now you look like an angry panda." she had said, after noticing his lack of a smile.

"My parents are going to freak out." Pat had replied.

"At what a cute, fuzzy panda you are." she had teased, a smile playing on her lips.

Then, Pat had laughed. He had laughed so hard that tears had eventually rolled down his cheeks.

* * *

"Walk slowly." Tiffany instructs, as she walks behind Pat." Straight, straight down." she says, as she tries to guide him down the hallway with his eyes closed.

He's hopeless.

She moves closer and sets her hands on his waist. Pat straightens up but not noticeably so. She repositions his body, so that when he walks he will walk straight, and then she instructs him on walking.

When they reach the end of the hallway, Tiffany moves towards the door and opens it.

"I swear to god, if you lead me in to a door and I break my nose-" Pat begins.

"Calm down, cranky." she quickly replies.

Pat sighs.

"I don't understand what you're leading me to." he admits.

He knows they are inside her place, he had his eyes open when they got here. She only forced him to close his eyes after they'd walked up the stairs.

"Keep your eyes closed." she instructs.

He keeps his eyes shut as she takes his left hand and leads him into the room. He feels carpet beneath his socks and assumes that he's in her bedroom.

She reaches for a light switch, turns it on, and then returns to Pat's side.

She gently touches his shoulder.

"Don't get your hopes up." she instructs.

Pat grins. "My hopes aren't up, they are as low as possible." he teases.

"Open your eyes." she says.

Pat opens his eyes slowly and finds himself in a room he has never been in before, a room that is lit up with a soft, warm, afternoon light. His eyes move around the room, carefully, as he takes in each detail.

A long lounge, with a blanket and several pillows, rests against the left wall. A wooden table stands before the lounge. A armchair rests against the wall to the right, beside a long, tall lamp. Then, he finds them; two large bookshelves, which stand tall, rest against the furthest wall. The bookshelves are filled dozens of books.

"Surprise." Tiffany smiles.

Pat turns towards her.

"This-This is for me?" he asks, like he's uncertain.

"I bought the bookshelves after we won the dancing competition." she states.

"What-I don't..." he begins.

"It's for you. Well, the room is still mine. The books are too. And so are the shelves. Okay, so this room – I thought it could be our little library, because you like reading so much." she says, finally.

Pat turns towards Tiffany, his face remaining impassive as he meets her gaze.

"What, you don't like it?" she asks.

He can hear that she's immediately getting defensive.

"You know what, Pat, I don't-" she begins.

"Whoa, whoa!" Pat exclaims.

He scoops Tiffany up; he wraps his arms around her waist, hugging her, and spins her around the room.

"Thank you," he says, pressing a kiss to her lips. "Tiffany, thank you." he repeats. "No one has ever done anything like this, for me, before. No one – I've never been with anyone like you. I can't- You are just amazing. I can't even..You just are." he says, as he sets her down and wraps his arms tightly around her.

"Here I was worried you'd hate it." she admits.

He pulls away from the embrace.

"Never. I couldn't hate it. I love it." he replies, grinning.

"Good." she smiles.

"Good." he repeats, pressing another kiss to her lips.

They spend the afternoon together, in the new reading room; the warm sun sneaks in through the windows and settles gently on to the two of them.

Pat sits straight on the lounge, a book in his hands, reading aloud to Tiffany who has her head rests on his lap. He occasionally runs his fingers through her hair, gently. He reads to her, and she listens, and when they finish one book Pat starts another and as they spend this time together Tiffany knows there is no other way she'd rather spend her time, and no one else she'd rather spend it with.

* * *

Pat and Tiffany leave her place, and begin walking to Pat's, around 7:30. Tiffany wears a short, black, long sleeved dressed with a black jacket on top, matched with black heeled boots and stockings. Pat wears the same clothes he was wearing all day, because when they got there he planned to go upstairs and changed into fresh clothes.

"You look beautiful." Pat continually commented, as they walked hand in hand.

She smiles and, much to his surprise, gives no sarcastic reply.

It was like they were back there, on the night they won the competition; they were holding hands, smiling continuously and laughing constantly.

It was bliss; a peaceful, soft, bliss which they both so enjoyed being consumed in.

He would often kiss her forehead, or her hand, and she would smile and her grip on his hand would tighten.

Luckily, for them, the rain only started to fall outside as they reached the front steps.

Tiffany moved quickly inside the house, first, followed closely by Pat.

Pat Sr. and Dolores were in the living room but they weren't smiling and they weren't alone – standing beside them, glancing towards the two of them, was a face that they both recognised from past encounters.

Standing before them, with an impassive expression on his features, is Officer Keogh.

* * *

**A/N: Thank you to everyone who takes the time to read and/or review my story. It really means so much to me, so thank you all. I apologise for any spelling errors and that this update is a little late.**

**Dear guest reviewer; Guest, who reviewed chapter four on 4/20/13:** Hi :) Thank you so much for not only reading but also reviewing my story. I'm so happy that you loved this chapter and I hope that you love this new one. Knowing that you are reading and enjoy my story is such a wonderful feeling, and I'm so thankful you are. Thank you. x

**Dear guest reviewer; Guest, who reviewed chapter four on 4/20/13:** Hi there :) I'm very happy to read that you thought this chapte was amazing, thank you for that. I'm relieved to read that you liked it and I want to thank you for reviewing and reading my story. I hope that you enjoy this newest update. x

**Dear guest reviewer; Laura, who reviewed chapter four on 4/21/13:** Hi Laura :) Thank you so much for reading and reviewing my story, it truly means so much to me and I'm so happy to read that you love it. Wow. Reading that you think I have a great understanding of the character's emotions is a relief, thank you so much for that. I do hope you enjoy this chapter and thanks for reading my story. :) x

**Dear guest reviewer; guest, who reviewed chapter four on 4/24/13:** Hi :) I'm so happy to read that you loved the update and I hope that you love this newest one. Thank you very much for reading and reviewing my story. x

_Thank you for reading and I hope that you enjoy. _X


	6. Silver break

******Disclaimer: Silver Linings Playbook is copyright to Matthew Quick and David O Russel. All Rights Reserved. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made. I claim and own nothing.**

* * *

"Oh, Patty." Dolores cries, covering her mouth with her hands, as she sets her eyes down upon her son.

The bruises on his face are not only darker, and not only appear more severe, but he has new, fresh bruises underneath both of his eyes.

The smile that had previously been resting on Pat's features vanishes in seconds.

Tiffany remains where she stands, a few feet away from Pat.

"What's going on?" Pat asks.

"What's going on?" Pat Sr. relies, quickly. "What the fuck do you think is going on, Pat?" he asks.

Dolores shakes her head, quickly. "It's nothing, Pat. Nothing." she assures him.

"Are you here to arrest him?" Tiffany asks, as she takes a step forward so she may stand firmly by Pat's side. "Because he didn't do anything." she states, quickly.

"No, ma'am." Officer Keogh says, quickly. "I'm not here to arrest Mr Solitano. I'm here to ask him a few question, that's all." he says.

"About what?" Dolores asks.

"About that dick at the bar." Pat states.

"Pat." Tiffany says, quickly.

"What? He was a dick. There's no denying that." Pat replies. "What...I can't- I don't know his name." he admits.

"Is that who did this to your face?" Dolores asks.

Pat sighs, loudly, and runs his hands through his hair.

"A 'Tyler Morrison' approached an officer, down at the precinct, stating that he wanted to report an assault-" Keogh begins.

"You're kidding me, right?" Pat snaps, sharply.

He speaks, jumps to conclusions, before Keogh is finished speaking.

"Let the man speak, Pat." Pat Sr. insists.

"Let him speak? I didn't assault him. I didn't fucking assault him." Pat states, loudly.

"Okay, I just need you to lower your voice." Keogh insists.

Pat shakes his head quickly. "Lower my voice? Lower my voice?" he asks. "I'm being charged with assault, here, when I did not assault him." he says.

"Just lower your voice, sir." Keogh instructs.

"I don't need to lower my voice-" Pat, loudly, begins.

"Pat..." Tiffany says, softly, as she continues to stand by his side.

He glances towards her and the two share a silent look.

Pat lowers his voice.

"I'm sorry.." Pat murmurs, as he scratches at the back of his head.

Keogh nods once. "Mr Morrison claimed he wanted to report an assault, against himself. After mentioning your name, he changed his mind and left." he states.

Pat's frown deepens.

"I don't- I don't understand." Pat frowns.

"He's not being charged?" Tiffany asks.

Officer Keogh shakes his head. "At the present time, no."

"What the fuck do you mean, 'not at the present time'?" Tiffany sharply replies.

"Miss..." Keogh sighs. "You need to calm down, the two of you." he says.

Tiffany clearly remembers her last encounter with Officer Keogh; he'd tried to hit on her, tried to get her to consider sleeping with him, and she just walked away.

"Okay?" Keogh repeats.

Tiffany swallows tightly.

"By at the present time, I meant that there are no charges against him." Keogh states.

Pat nods quickly.

"Okay. Okay, so what questions do you need to ask me? If I'm not being charged with anything?" Pat asks.

"You and Mr Morrison engaged in a brawl, yes?" Keogh asks.

Pat nods again.

"Do you want to press charges?" Keogh question.

Pat and Tiffany answer simultaneously.

"Yes." Pat says.

"No." Tiffany states.

They turn to face each other within seconds of speaking, both were unreadable expressions on their features.

"Tiff..." Pat begins, softly.

"If you charge him, he'll charge you, Pat." Tiffany states. "And I don't want that, no one does." she adds.

Pat Sr. takes a step forward.

"You think he should walk away after what he did to Pat, to you?" Pat Sr. asks.

Tiffany turns towards Pat, glaring almost – Pat Sr. knows, somehow he knows that Tyler came on to her and almost went too far. She wanted to keep that between the two of them, she didn't want to share that with anyone especially not Pat's family.

"I'm sorry, did I hear that correctly..." Officer Keogh begins. "Mr Morrison assaulted the both of you?" Keogh asks.

Pat can't lift his eyes off of Tiffany, who stands still with her jaw clenched tightly together, her cheeks feel like they are burning, her eyes sting with the tears that she won't let fall.

She feels betrayed by Pat, more than anything else.

Tiffany's eyes rest on the floor.

"Is there something that the two of you would like to report, or officially charge Mr Morrison with?" Officer Keogh asks.

"Tiffany..." Pat whispers, softly.

He steps closer towards her, tilts his head sideways so he may attempt to catch her gaze.

She looks up and meets Keogh's gaze.

"No." she states, sounding so sure, so certain, there's nothing they want to do.

"If you're not charging him with anything..." Dolores begins.

"You need to keep him in check, if this happens again he may not be so lucky as to have the charges dropped." Officer Keogh states.

Dolores nods quickly, a small smile appearing on her features.

"We will." Dolores says, softly.

Officer Keogh leaves them, soon after, to an uncomfortable silence which Dolores breaks.

"Dinner's on the table." Dolores says, smiling kindly at the three of them.

Pat Sr. watches on carefully as Tiffany meets Dolores gaze.

"It looks delicious," Tiffany says, her eyes flickering over the food. "But I'm not hungry." she says.

Pat's frown deepens. "Tiff, what-" he begins.

"Oh, no. Are you sure, sweetie?" Dolores asks. "I made it for you two." she smiles.

"I'm sorry, I just..." Tiffany begins, shaking her head quickly.

She steps backwards, away from Pat.

"I just- I have to go home. I can't – I can't be here. I can't do this. I'm sorry." she says, quickly.

Tiffany turns around and steps out of the living.

Pat shares a quick exchange with his parents before he chases after Tiffany.

The rain is falling heavier now as Tiffany steps out into it, but she doesn't care. She welcomes the cold feeling, as it soaks into her skin and soothes her. She sighs loudly, pushes her hair off of her face, and continues walking down the stairs, away from Pat's house.

She knows he will chase after her but she doesn't want him to.

"Tiffany!" Pat shouts out, loudly. "Tiffany, wait up!" he shouts, louder.

She hears him clearly but she doesn't stop, she keeps walking.

He runs until he is close enough to catch her wrist, and he does so gently.

She stops and spins around, quickly, a look of disbelief on her features mixed with betrayal.

"Tiffany, what's-" he starts.

"I trusted you," she says, pulling her hand away from his and hitting his chest with clenched fists. "And this is what I get!" she exclaims.

He tries to hold her hands, to stop her from pushing her hands into his chest, but she continues despite that his hands stay around her arms.

"This is what I fucking get." she says, sharply. "You took my trust and you betrayed it and you shared it with your fucking family!" she says.

Pat shakes his head, blinking quickly as the droplets of rain fall blur his vision.

"I didn't mean to – Tiff, I didn't say anything." Pat insists.

"You didn't say anything?" she scoffs. "Your dad knows, Pat, he knows that I couldn't protect myself. He knows that I was weak. I trusted you and you betrayed it." she says, shaking her head.

She pulls her hands away from him, breaking the touch.

"Goodnight, Pat." she says, curtly, before turning around.

He still follows after her.

"Tiffany, don't do this." he pleads.

"Tiffany." he calls out.

She turns around once more and as she does he thinks she might change her mind, she doesn't.

"Go home, Pat." she says, simply, before she leaves him.

She leaves him in the rain, she leaves him alone, she leaves him with a broken feeling inside that he thought he could never feel when he was with her.

This was supposed to be their shot, their silver lining, but he felt terribly alone.

They spend their first night apart since the dance.

* * *

Pat finds his room unusually cold and empty. He struggles to sleep so he tries to read. He can't concentrate on reading, despite that he longs to so he can take his mind off of her.

But he can never take his mind off of her.

He goes downstairs, to use the telephone, and finds his father in the living room.

"Planning on calling Tiffany?" Pat Sr. asks.

"What are you doing up?" Pat asks, rubbing at the back of his neck as he steps inside the room.

"Watching a game." Pat Sr. replies. "You can't call her, Pat. It's nearly one in the morning, she's probably sleeping."

"Or she's not?" Pat suggests.

"Or she is," Pat Sr. replies. "Don't wake her up, and don't call her. It's too impersonal. Go over there tomorrow." he says.

Pat sighs, loudly, as he runs his hands over his head and down to the back of his neck. He releases another sigh.

"What?" Pat Sr. asks.

"She doesn't want to see me." Pat mutters, with a much lower voice.

Pat Sr. all but scoffs with disbelief.

"Of course she does." Pat Sr. says.

"She left, she told me to go home." Pat sighs, loudly, as he takes a step towards the couch.

Pat Sr. mutes the television and turns towards Pat, as he takes a seat down on the couch.

"What was that about?" he asks.

Pat shrugs. "I don't know."

"What do you mean, you don't know? Of course you know. Come on, tell me." Pat Sr. insists.

Pat hesitates. He sighs, loudly, and places his hands in his lap. He shifts, and repositions his body, before he finally speaks.

"She has trust issues, bad ones, and I just fucked that right up." Pat admits.

Pat Sr. shakes his head, he believes otherwise.

"You didn't fuck anything up." Pat Sr. states.

"Yeah, I did." Pat nods, repeatedly. "That guy, that guy...He didn't do anything. He tried but he didn't." Pat states, clearly becoming more agitated, more annoyed, by the second.

"She's pissed you told me?" Pat Sr. questions.

Pat nods. "I think so."

Pat Sr. takes a moment to contemplate the whole situation.

"That's understandable." he says, finally.

Pat's frown deepens, noticeably.

"What, you're siding with her?" Pat asks.

Pat Sr., calmly, replies, "I'm not siding with her, Pat. Or you. There are no sides, Pat."

"You're my family, I tell you everything." Pat loudly announces.

"That's great, Pat. Tell me everything about you." Pat Sr. nods. He pauses before he continues, "With Tiffany, it has to be different. It's not your stuff to tell, if she don't want it that way."

Pat begins, lowly, "I didn't..."

"I know, you didn't mean bad." Pat Sr. quickly says. "You never do, Pat. You're a good boy. Now go to bed. And don't even think about calling her at this hour." he adds.

Pat stands slowly from the couch, stretching his legs as he does.

"Alright, alright." Pat mutters.

"Oh – I got some good news for you, Pat." Pat Sr. announces, quickly, as the thought returns to him.

"Yeah?" Pat turns around.

"We were waiting until dinner." Pat Sr. informs him.

"Oh." Pat answers.

"Diner's opening sooner than expected," Pat Sr. says, "Renovations are done, all stock is order, suppliers are set up."

"When's it opening?" Pat asks, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"This weekend." Pat Sr. states.

Pat can't believe what he is hearing.

"This weekend?" he asks, loudly.

"Yeah." Pat Sr. smiles.

"No." Pat answers, quickly.

"Yeah." Pat Sr. repeats.

"No. No fucking way." Pat grins, clearly excited by this news.

"And, you know..." Pat Sr. sighs. "Your mother and I were waiting for the right moment."

"To what?" Pat frowns, slightly, but the grin on his features remains.

"If you want it, and only if you want it...I mean, I know you got other plans and what not. But if you want it, there's a job waiting for you at the diner." Pat Sr. says, watching Pat closely as he speaks.

"Are you kidding me?" Pat slowly replies.

"It's a family diner, Pat. You're family." Pat Sr. says.

"A job, for me?" Pat checks.

"I mean, if you didn't want to go back to teaching just yet. Just, you know, cleaning, taking orders, maybe even some cooking. What do you think?" Pat Sr. replies.

"What do I think?" Pat grins. "It sounds great!" he exclaims. "Thank you, thank you, you didn't have to." he says, quickly.

He steps forward, bends down slightly, and tightly embraces Pat Sr.

"You're my son, I want you to work there." Pat Sr. answers.

"Thank you." Pat repeats. "I love you, pop, thank you." he mutters, in his father's ear.

"It's okay, it's alright. I love you too, Pat, you know I do. And I wouldn't have this diner without you, and Tiffany." Pat Sr. replies. "But don't tell your mother I told you – she wanted to be the one to surprise you." he says, quickly.

"Alright, sure." Pat nods.

"Just between you and me?" Pat Sr. checks.

Pat smiles. "Just between you and me."

* * *

Pat waits until he hears his father go to bed, upstairs, before he sneaks downstairs. He doesn't use the phone because his father was right – he needs to do something more personal than a telephone call.

He moves downstairs in a clean pair of brown pants, a thick gray jumper, and a pair of runners. He pulls his hoodie over his head and steps outside, finding that the rain has eased down slightly.

He jogs lightly towards Tiffany's, taking his time as he thinks of what exactly he will say to her. He contemplates stopping, and returning home, but soon enough his feet lead him to her door and he finds himself banging, repeatedly, on her door, calling out for her.

No lights come on.

He keeps knocking, and knocking, and calling out until the front door suddenly opens.

She stands before him, dressed in a baggy jersey and blue pants, her brown curls resting by her side. She looks tired, like she hasn't been sleeping, and he thinks he can smell the faint scent of alcohol on her breath.

"Tiff..." he begins.

"Pat, what the fuck are you doing here?" she snaps. "It's 2:00 in the morning, Pat." she states.

"Uh, yeah. I've got a watch, Tiff. I know what time it is, okay? I know but I had to see you." he insists.

She doesn't move form the doorway, she doesn't let him inside.

"What do you want?" she asks, crossing her arms over herself.

"I wanted to see you. Look, can't we just talk about this?" he asks.

She sighs.

"Look, Tiffany. Fine. Don't talk. You don't have to, I will." he replies, quickly.

"I love you, okay? More than I have loved anyone, more than I even thought was possible. You know, I've never felt what I feel with you before. Never. And I don't want to feel it with someone else, I don't want anyone else, I just want you." he admits, with a slightly lowered voice.

"The thought of losing you is – I don't like thinking about it, okay? I can't even fucking consider the idea of losing you. That is why I'm like this. That is why I'm so protective, because I love you. And I want you to love me back, I want you to love me like I do you, but I understand if you can't. I do. I'll understand if you're done with me." he states.

"Pat," she whispers. "I'll never be done with you." she says, softly.

She steps forward and places both of her hands on Pat's cheeks, pulling him towards her as she kisses him; the kiss is unexpected, there is a heat between them despite the rain that falls still, but it's different.

Her hands run up his back and into his hair as she leads him inside the house. She closes the door by pushing Pat's back against it, his hands wander down from her back to her waist.

Pat wants her, he wants this, but he knows she's not ready. He knows why it's different; Tiffany is hurting, she's been drinking, some old wounds have been opened up and she thinks she wants to sleep with him because she thinks it'll make her feel better.

Pat doesn't want this, right now.

He breaks the embrace.

"Tiffany..." he sighs.

She presses soft kisses to his neck.

"Tiffany, stop it." he says.

She doesn't stop.

"Tiffany, stop." he says, louder.

She breaks away now, her eyes filled with a dark, deep confusion.

"What's wrong?" she frowns.

"You don't want this." he states.

She drops her hands from his chest and takes a slight step away from Pat; he doesn't want this, he doesn't want her to pull away, but he can't let her make a mistake with him.

She's upset, right now, and it would be a mistake. Tiffany just can't see that clearly right now.

"What?" she almost laughs. "Of course I want it, Pat, but clearly you don't." she says, almost with a hint of an accusing tone.

She's accusing him of not being interested in her, of not wanting her _that_ way, of not finding her beautiful.

"Tiffany, Tiffany, don't freak out." Pat pleads.

"Because that's what I do, isn't it?" she snaps. "That's my thing. As soon as things turn to shit Tiffany freaks out. Good old, reliable, crazy Tiffany who always freaks the fuck out.." she sharply states.

Pat groans, loudly, and runs his hands over his forehead and through his hair.

"Tiffany, listen to me." he says.

"No, Pat, listen to me." she counters. "You need to leave." she says.

"No, I don't. And I'm not." he replies.

Her frown deepens, her hardened expression remains, her eyes stay guarded.

"You're hurting, okay?" he says. "And it's okay, Tiffany. It's okay." he assures her, softly.

Pat steps slowly, almost cautiously, towards Tiffany.

"You're hurt, you're afraid, and you're feeling insecure." he says.

She scoffs. "Who's being Mr Charles fucking Xavier now?" she replies.

"Don't do this," he pleads. "Don't put your walls up, don't try to push me away." he says.

"I'm not-" she begins.

"You are." he says, talking over her. "You're trying but you might as well stop because it won't work." he states.

"I'm not hurting, I'm not afraid, and I'm sure as hell not insecure." she states.

"You've been drinking, Tiff, a lot. I can smell it on your breath." he says, sadly.

She presses her lips tightly together until the colour fades from them.

"I'm sorry, okay?" he sighs. "I'm sorry for telling my dad, I'm sorry for hitting that guy – I'm sorry for all of it. But Tiff, I love you. Nothing will change that, not now, not ever." he promises.

Pat takes her hands, slowly, and as he does she still remains uncertain, she still remains rigid, she still remains unsure.

For a moment, he believes she will kick him out.

"Have a shower," she says, finally. "You're soaking wet and you're not getting into our bed like that." she orders.

He smiles.

"What?" she frowns.

"You said 'our' bed." Pat grins.

Tiffany cracks a small smile, which Pat could never miss.

"Ah!" he exclaims. "There it is. That beautiful smile." he grins.

"Shower, now." she orders.

After he has showered, and discarded his wet clothes in the corner of the bathroom, he wraps a dry towel around his waist and turns towards the mirror.

Pat almost doesn't recognize himself; he has two black eyes, forming, dark bruises shadowing around them, his face is still cut and bruised from the first fight, and his body is still heavily bruised and sore.

He draws in a sharp breath of air before he enters the hallway to find all of the lights switched off with the exception of the light in Tiffany's bedroom.

Her door is closed, the light slips through the crack underneath.

He steps slowly towards the door, his hand eventually reaches and grips the silver handle. He opens the door to find her in bed, her back turned to him, the blankets covering her body.

In the first moments, he believes that she's sleeping.

"I set you some clothes out." she says, without glancing up.

His eyes flicker towards the end of her bed, where he finds a jersey and pair of blue sweatpants.

"Thanks." Pat replies.

Silence follows.

He dresses quickly, after drying himself. He returns to the bathroom, folds his towel, and places it beside hers. He rinses his face with water before he returns to her.

She remains still, her back still towards him.

Pat switches the light off and they find themselves in almost complete darkness, with the exception of small light which slips through the cracks in the curtains.

He moves towards the empty side of the bed and slips inside, underneath the blankets.

He rests on his back first, watching her closely; he can still see her, even in the darkness. Her eyes are closed, her hair has been pulled back, she almost looks peaceful.

"Why are you watching me?" she asks, breaking the silence.

"Because I'm creepy." he answers, grinning.

Her eyes open slowly.

"Pat." she sighs.

He moves so he's lying on his side, facing her, so that they are lying so close their bodies are almost touching.

"I'm worried, about you." he admits.

She almost rolls her eyes.

"I am." he says.

"You have no reason to be." she answers.

"Actually," he begins. "I think I have plenty of reasons to be." he says.

She stays silent, her eyes never leaving his.

"I just- I don't want...I can't not worry about you, Tiff. It's impossible." he admits. "You're all I think about, all the time. How could I not worry about you?" he asks.

"Way to make me feel guilty." she answers.

"What?" he almost laughs.

"You're so sweet, and so cute, and you – You're just..." she sighs.

"What?" he asks, sitting up slightly. "I'm what?" he asks.

She stays silent.

"Tiffany, what's the rest of that sentence?" he pushes her.

She breaks.

"You're better than me, Pat, okay? I am the crazy one. I am the fucked up one who freaks out on you, and pushes you away, and makes you worry about me. I am selfish, and stupid, and I do not deserve you." she answers, quickly and loudly.

Pat's mouth hangs open slightly, his eyes stay focused on her.

"That's what this is about." he states.

She frowns.

"You think you don't deserve me?" he scoffs.

Her frown deepens. "I don't think, I know." she answers.

"You're wrong." he shakes his head. "I am not better than you, Tiffany Maxwell, and you are not better than me. We are equal but together, we make each other better people, we want to be better, do better – we want to feel better."

She seems reluctant, disbelieving still.

"Come here." he says.

He pulls her closer towards him, so that she may rest her head against his chest. She moves closer, entwining her legs with his, burying her head in the crevice of his neck, wrapping her arms around his chest.

"I'm sorry for pushing you away, for being crazy, for coming onto you, for shouting at you." she mutters.

Pat manages a small smile. He leans down and presses a kiss to her head, her hair smells sweet, like coconuts.

"Pat..." Tiffany calls out, breaking the comfortable silence they fell into.

"Mmm?" he replies, softly stroking her hair.

She keeps her head buried against his chest.

"You said something before..." she begins. "You said you'd understand if I was done with you." she states.

He sighs softly. "What about it?" he asks.

"Did you mean that?" she asks, softly.

"Yes, I did, Tiff. I meant that if you wanted things to be done, I'd agree." he says.

"Why?" she asks.

"Because I'd want you to be happy." he admits.

She stays in silence for a moment as she considers his words.

Tiffany believes that she could never be happy if Pat were gone from her life, she wouldn't be happy without him.

"Do you really think I could be happy without you?" she asks, a flicker of vulnerability slipping through in her tone.

She doesn't wait for his response.

"I couldn't." she announces. "Never."

"You say that-" Pat begins.

"It's the truth." she cuts him off, because he needs the truth.

Pat presses another kiss to her head.

"I couldn't be happy without you." he softly says.

Tiffany waits a moment.

"Pat?" she says.

"Yes?" he replies.

He feels her grip around his chest tighten, like she's holding onto him tighter, clinging onto him so that she will never lose him.

"I want you to know..." she murmurs.

"What?" he asks, as she comes to a halt.

She gives him more silence.

"Tiff, what is it?" he asks.

She sighs before she, softly, answers, "There is no way I could ever be done with you."

"You have no idea how happy hearing that makes me." he murmurs, into her ear.

She pulls him as close to her as he can, and keeps her hands firmly around his chest.

"Pat, we deserve to be happy, don't we?" she asks.

He doesn't hesitate.

"Why wouldn't we?" he asks.

"Do you think we do?" she asks, repeating her first question.

"Of course we do, Tiff. Of course we deserve to be happy." he says, confidently.

They deserve this, they deserve each other, they deserve their shot at a silver lining, they deserve happiness, and they deserve love.

"Don't ever doubt it, we deserve this." he whispers.

She nuzzles herself further against his chest, so her head is resting on his chest, where his heart, his beautiful and golden heart, beats softly.

* * *

Pat wakes in the early morning, eight o'clock, to find an already alert Tiffany resting in his arms. She smiles at him, as he sets his eyes upon her, and presses a soft kiss to his lips.

The sun is still shadowed by thick, grey clouds and the rain still falls heavily.

"Good morning." she smiles.

"It is. It's a very good morning." he says, grinning at her. "But today. You know, I don't like to brag but today is going to be great." he states.

Her smile widens.

"Is it?" she asks.

He nods.

"I mean, I am so confident about how great today is going to be that I would even go so far as to call it amazing." Pat announces, unable to stop his grin from widening.

"Amazing?" she lifts an eyebrow.

"Just like you." he smiles.

"You sound pretty confident." she states.

Pat nods quickly.

"I am confident about this. I've got it all planned out." he replies.

"Really?" she questions.

"Yes. I do." he answers.

"Does your plan involve us laying here, for a while longer?" Tiffany smiles. "It's so nice here, with you." she says.

"Nice try." Pat grins, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead before he all but jumps from the bed.

"Have a shower, eat something, get dressed and I'll pick you up in an hour." he says, as he moves towards the door.

"Pat." she calls out.

As he steps out into the hallway, Pat shouts out, "Trust me."

Pat changes quickly, into his clothes, from last night. He pulls on his runners, washes his face with water, and starts down the stairs. As he steps outside, and finds that the rain has begun to ease up, he decides that he has plenty of time to run before he returns home.

While he runs, he can go over his ideas, his plan, his surprise, for Tiffany.

A quick run, he decides, he'll take the back away to Tiffany's which involves crossing through a long, green, park with lots of trees. He enjoys running down there and decides, silently, that he and Tiffany should run there more often as the scenery is quite nice.

He runs across the street, from Tiffany's, and runs straight until he reaches a turn in the pathway. He turns left, then right, and then continues jogging straight until he takes one last left.

He can see the park, empty with the exception of himself.

He jogs steadily, knowing that he has plenty of time to return home, shower, and prepare for her surprise.

Pat doesn't hear the footsteps as they come up behind him.

He doesn't even think to glance behind him, at the sound of leaves rustling in the grass, instead he continues moving forward, down the slightly damp path, surrounded by long, winding trees which each have their own story, their own history.

A blunt, sharp, strong force hits Pat in the back of the head and knocks him forward. He falls flat onto his face, into the dirt and grass. He tries to get up but he is forced down, heavily, by several strong hands and feet which dig into him, kick him, cause him pain.

The last thought that enters Pat's mind before the darkness takes him is of Tiffany Maxwell.

* * *

**A/N: Hi all! Firstly, I'd just like to apologise for this very late update. I never intended to update this late, but things got busy and life gets in the way. I hope that you enjoy this chapter, and I apologise for any spelling mistakes that there may be. I want to thank every person who reads my story, reviews it, favourites or follows, it truly means so much to me, so thank you.**

**Dear Guest reviewer; Unknown Cupcake, who posted on ch.5:  
**Hi :) Wow. Thank you so much for such a kind review, it seriously makes me so happy and boosts my confidence in regards to this story to read a review such as the one you wrote. You saying that my story is amazing is such flattery, and it inspires me, so thank you so much. Wow. I'm almost at a loss for how to reply to this. My mouth is hanging open, that you think it's one of the best fanfics you've ever read. Thank you so, so much, seriously your words boost my confidence about this story so much. I hope that you enjoyed my other stories, I do have quite a few. I am very sorry for the late update, and I hope that you enjoy this chapter. Again, thank you. x

**Dear guest reviewer; Guest; who posted on ch.5 on 4/29/13:  
**Hi there :) Thank you for reading and reviewing my story, it really means so much to me, your support is great, thank you! I'm so happy you thought it was a good update, and I hope that you enjoy this chapter. Thanks for reading. x

**Dear guest reviewer, Guest, who posted on ch.5 on the 4/28/13:  
**Hello, guest :) Thank you so much for reading and reviewing my story :) It means a lot to me and I truly appreciate it. I'm very happy, and relieved, to read that you thought it was an awesome chapter and I hope you enjoy this chapter just as much. I apologise for the late update, thank you for reading and staying with my story. x

**Dear guest reviewer, Guest, who posted on ch.5 on 4/27/13:  
**Hi :) I'm so happy you loved it, and it makes me smile when you say 'as usual', meaning you loved my others - thank you so much for reviewing and reading my story, it truly means a lot. Thank you. x

_Thank you, again, to those of you who read this and I hope you like this new chapter._

_x_


	7. Silver fears

**Disclaimer: Silver Linings Playbook is copyright to Matthew Quick and David O Russel. All Rights Reserved. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made. I claim and own nothing.**

* * *

Tiffany sits in sunlight for hours, waiting for Pat to come home to her.

She waits for two hours for Pat to show up, at her house, to pick her up like he said he would. She can't deny that she is mad, angry that he left her waiting for two hours.

She pulls on a long black jacket, over her black tights and long-sleeve navy blue shirt. She grabs her red scarf, wraps it around her neck, and steps outside.

She takes an umbrella because the rain has been falling heavier this morning than it did these past days.

The air outside is chilly, uncomfortably icy, so she decides to walk the quickest way she can to Pat's house, the front way.

She walks as quickly as she can, avoiding puddles and keeping her umbrella up to shield her from the water which constantly falls.

As she nears Pat's house, she finds that the car is still parked in the driveway.

Tiffany walks quickly towards the front door, pulling her umbrella closed before she reaches it. She knocks on the door loudly.

Pat Sr. opens the front door, his expression grim and slightly pale. Tiffany doesn't notice this, as the first seconds past.

"Where is he?" Tiffany almost shouts. "Two hours, Pat, you left me waiting two fuc-" she begins.

Tiffany falls silent as she sets her eyes down upon Dolores; her eyes are puffy, and red, like she's been crying. Now, Tiffany takes more notice, pays more attention, to Pat's Sr.'s expression.

"What?" Tiffany asks, her voice surprisingly dry.

"We've been trying to get a hold of you, we just called your house." Dolores says, softly.

Tiffany's frown deepens.

"What happened?" she asks. "Where's Pat?" Tiffany asks, sounding almost scared.

Pat Sr. steps forward and places a gentle but reassuring hand on Tiffany's shoulder.

She holds his gaze.

"We just got the call, Pat's in the hospital." Pat Sr. informs her.

Her eyes burn.

She doesn't speak and she doesn't move because she can't.

The fear that she feels, at the very thought of losing Pat, almost cripples her.

"He was found beaten in the park. That's all we know, we're on our way down now if you want to join us?" Pat Sr. asks.

Tiffany nods, quickly.

"We called Jake and he's getting onto Danny and Ronnie." Dolores says.

Tiffany stays silent.

Pat Sr. directs the silent, and slightly stunned, Dolores and Tiffany towards the car. Tiffany gets in the backseat and as she does she cannot remove her eyes off of the passenger seat; it feels like so long ago that Pat was in that seat, calling her perfect, smiling at her, but it wasn't that long ago.

She doesn't feel anything.

She doesn't hear Pat Sr. as he tries to reassure her and Dolores, she doesn't respond to him so eventually he stops trying. He decides to leave her, for now.

Tiffany's entire body is stiff, her heart feels like it may beat out of her chest, her palms are sweaty, she feels herself slowly beginning to panic.

She had no idea why Pat would have been in the park, if he was jogging home he should have gone the back way. She wants to know who would beat him, who would hurt _her _Pat.

It seems that after a blink of an eye they are at the hospital.

Tiffany quickly pulls herself together, because she has to be together for Pat if he needs her.

She convinces herself, silently, repeatedly, that he will be fine. She's worrying over nothing, he isn't hurt, he's going to be fine because he always is and they will be happy because they so deserve to be.

They are informed, by a woman at the reception desk, that Pat Solitano is still being treated and that it shouldn't be long now.

They wait half an hour in the waiting room, they are directed to, before Danny, Ronnie, Veronica and Jake arrive. They all embrace Dolores and Pat first, who stand to greet them and tell them what they now about Pat's condition.

Tiffany doesn't stand to greet them, she stays seated on the small, uncomfortable chair in the waiting room, her eyes never wavering away from the entrance so that she may see him, so she can see Pat, when he comes to her, when he returns to her, when he walks through because he will walk through that door.

Veronica takes a seat down next to her sister.

"Tiffany," she softly begins, pressing a hand to her shoulder.

Tiffany doesn't recoil from her sister's hand but she doesn't acknowledge it, she doesn't acknowledge her presence.

"How are you doing, sweetie?" Veronica asks.

Tiffany doesn't reply.

"Pat's going to be fine. Okay?" Veronica says, reassuringly.

Still, nothing.

"Hey, Tiffany." Ronnie says, stepping towards her.

Veronica glances up at him, wearing a sympathetic expression on her features.

"How are you holding up?" Ronnie asks.

"She's in denial." Veronica says, softly.

Tiffany pays attention to this.

"Don't talk about me in third person, Veronica. Don't talk about me like I'm not here." Tiffany says, with a dull and flat tone.

Veronica straightens up.

"Tiffany, I'm not doing that." she assures her, as she gently rubs her back.

"Tiffany.." Veronica sighs. "I just want to be here for you." she says.

"That's great, Veronica. Thanks for coming." Tiffany turns towards her. "But if you don't mind being 'here for me' while I'm not actually here." she states, before she stands up from her chair.

"Tiffany, don't do this." Veronica calls out.

Tiffany doesn't reply, she doesn't turn back. She walks away from her sister, away from those waiting for the news of Pat in the waiting room, and towards the bathroom.

She breaks before she reaches the bathroom doors.

She finds the bathroom empty but she wouldn't care if anyone was in here. She locks herself into a stall, closes the toilet lid, sits down onto the lid and cries.

Tiffany doesn't know how long she was in the bathroom for when she returns to the waiting room.

Dolores greets her first, offers her coffee and a biscuit to which Tiffany declines. No fuss is made over Tiffany's return, no one asks her about her sudden departure, no one speaks of Pat. Instead, the group wait in silence.

Tiffany takes a slow seat down beside Veronica, who is at first very still. But within moments Veronica inches towards Tiffany and slides her hands over her sister's, so she may hold her hands. Much to Veronica's surprise, Tiffany doesn't pull away.

But she doesn't speak, she doesn't move at all.

Tiffany is frozen with fear; the fear of losing Pat.

She is torn inside.

She is angry at herself, for pushing him away when she should have been pulling him closer, for not listening to him, for being angry with him for being late today, for not telling him what she should have told him at the start.

She loved him, more than she thought was possible, more than she had ever loved anyone before, more than life itself, but it was so difficult for her to say those words before.

If he were to walk out of that room this very second, she would run up to him, embrace him, and tell him how much she loved him and how she could never love another after him.

Another anxious, painful hour went by before Pat's doctor entered the waiting room, calling out for the Solitano family.

Tiffany wanted to join them but she didn't. She wasn't part of the Solitano family so, instead, she stayed behind as Dolores, Pat Sr., and Jake spoke to the doctor.

Veronica didn't say a word, neither did Ronnie or Danny. The four waited in silence, waited for the hopeful news that Pat was perfectly fine.

But Pat wasn't perfectly fine, he wasn't going to walk out of the door anytime soon.

Pat Sr. returned to the group first, as Dolores and Jake embraced.

"How is he?" Tiffany asks, quickly, loudly, as he approaches her.

Pat Sr. hesitates.

"The Doctor said he was beaten, badly. Ah.. four broken ribs, cuts to his back, stomach, and head. Excessive bruising around his neck and shoulder. He hasn't regained consciousness yet. There was some swelling. Uh, I don't – They're a little worried about his neck, it must have been kicked badly or something... I don't know. I don't know why he hasn't woken up yet. I don't know. They said he was out in the rain for hours, just lying there. I don't know why he isn't awake, I don't know who would do this to Pat." Pat Sr. sadly admits.

Tiffany breathes in sharply.

She takes a slight step backwards, like she might back away, like she might run from here as fast as she can. But she doesn't run because Pat Sr. stops her.

He takes her hand, pulls her carefully towards him, and embraces her just as he had embraced Dolores and Jake seconds earlier.

"Our boy, Pat, he's a fighter." Pat Sr. states. "I have faith in him. I do. He'll get through this."

Dolores, Pat Sr. and Jake enter Pat's room first.

They find him resting, on his back, with a bandage running across his head, another bandage rests above his ear and a few bandages have been placed on his wrists. His eyes are closed, his eyelids are dark with bruises and swelling slightly. His lips are swollen slightly, a small cut runs across them.

If it weren't for the bruises and bandages scattered over his skin, they might believe he was sleeping peacefully.

Tiffany, Danny, Veronica and Ronnie wait in silence outside his room for over half an hour.

Jake exits first, followed by Pat Sr. who has his arms around Dolores. Veronica insists that they return home, rest, eat something and then come back when they are feeling up to it. She promises to call them if Pat makes any progress.

Tiffany enters the room alone, and she doesn't have to tell Veronica that she wants a moment alone with Pat – Veronica just knows.

As she sets her eyes down upon Pat Solitano, Tiffany almost chokes on the sob that escapes her pale lips.

She stifles a cry, places her hands over her mouth, and tries to calm herself, control herself, prevent herself from breaking.

But she can't stop herself.

She feels the hot tears rolling uncontrollably down her cheeks, she makes no effort to wipe them away, she doesn't try to stop them.

She doesn't acknowledge them because all that she can see is Pat.

Broken, battered, bruised.

She did this to him. She pushed him away, she ran from his house when she should have stayed with him, she should never have left but she left and this was ultimately her doing and she would never forgive herself.

He had such a good heart. A pure, kind, sweet heart. He didn't deserve this, he didn't deserve to be beaten and left in the cold, cruel rain. He deserved everything that he wanted and more, he deserved happiness, he deserved hope.

But above all, Pat deserved peace.

And she had only given him moments of peace.

She pushed him, she shouted at him, she hurt him when she should have held him closer, spoke softer to him, and cared for him.

She presses her lips so tightly together that the color quickly begins to fade from them.

Tiffany takes small, almost cautious, steps towards the seat that has been pulled up to Pat's beside.

She finds that she can't life her eyes off of him, she can't look away from the man who wanted to give her everything, who wanted to be everything for her, and she can't stop herself from reliving the past, their past and her own past.

The past is inescapable.

But she believed with Pat by her side that a fresh start may be possible. She could escape the past if she shared it with him but she was never strong enough, brave enough, to share it with him even if she wanted to.

She did want to open up to him but opening up was difficult, almost impossible, for Tiffany.

She was worn down by time, beaten by grief, and so hurt by pain that she didn't believe she had the strength to open up about things better left forgotten.

She reaches slowly for his hand, her hands shaking almost uncontrollably as she does.

More tears fall, she allows them to.

She places her hand down on Pat's before she takes it and holds it gently with her own.

She wants to talk to him, to plead with him to wake, to apologize for all of her mistakes, to tell her how she feels, but she doesn't say a word.

She cannot speak because the memories of the past, which will not cease, prevent her from doing so.

Tiffany sees a sunset, as she closes her eyes.

The sunset is dark, the sky is still blue, as it sets.

It flashes before her tightly shit eyes, and for a moment she is able to find peace in this place but the image which she sees disappears in seconds and a darker memory appears.

She sees Tommy's body, covered by a plain white sheet.

She can't see his face because she doesn't want to, because if she doesn't see his face then it won't be real.

Cold metal drawers and objects fill the room, the lights are blinding, the room is uncomfortably cold. Her feet move against her will, towards his body.

When they lift the sheet away from his face, so she may identify him, Tiffany feels numb.

She feels sick and fights the urge to throw up.

Tommy disappears, as does everything around him.

Seconds of darkness pass by until another bright light appears.

But Tiffany isn't standing, she's lying in a hospital bed.

Her head is heavy, it throbs, her body aches. She feels tired, exhausted, but above all she feels alone in this moment. She is alone here, just as she is alone in her reality with Pat.

She returns to reality, with Pat, because it's better here with him, she's better with him, she wants him to be better so that she can make him feel better, so she can love him how he should be loved.

For a flickering second she foolishly allows herself to believe that he might be awake, that he may be watching her sweetly as he does, when she returns to him.

But he isn't awake.

He remains in his sleeping state, breathing softly and slowly.

Her grip on his hand tightens.

She lowers her eyes down towards their hands and finds that his wedding ring is gone, but she still wears hers.

Her eyes flicker over the room until she sets them down upon a small brown bag, which holds all of the belongings that were on Pat when he was admitted.

She blinks quickly, tears falling heavier now, as she wonders who it was that found him. She cares more about who did this to him.

She closes her eyes tightly, her hands remain locked on his, as she tries to calm herself down.

She convinces herself that Pat will wake in the morning, that he will get better and they will be together again.

But trying to have hope when you've lived in the desperation and darkness for so long is such difficult thing.

Tiffany leaves before the morning comes.

She leaves Pat against her will, Pat Sr. forces her to leave. He helps her up from the chair and directs her towards the door, muttering occasionally that everything will be okay and she can return in a few hours once she has returned home and slept.

He drives her to his house, because Jake will be by Dolores' side, waiting by the phone if there is an update about Pat's condition.

Pat Sr. will return to the hospital and sit by Pat's side for a few hours, talking to him about what he reads in the paper, football, and the diner.

* * *

When they enter the house, Tiffany stops by the stairs.

"I'm not hungry." she states.

Pat Sr. nods.

"That's okay. That's fine. Why don't you take a shower, go upstairs and rest, hm?" Pat Sr. suggests.

Tiffany is obviously hesitant to sleep.

"Tiffany, I promise you that if anything at all happens to Pat, I will ring home and you will be the first to know." Pat Sr. assures her.

She exhales softly.

"Trust me, okay, Tiffany? Trust me when I say I'll call. Trust me when I say Pat's going to be fine." Pat Sr. says, with a kind tone.

He manages a small smile. "Go shower and sleep." he instructs.

She allows the warmth of the shower to ease her skin, to soothe her, before she steps out and wraps a towel around her body. She doesn't think about her own wounds, her bruises and cuts, because they are not nearly as important to her as Pat is.

She takes cautious steps towards his bedroom, like she's afraid of the emptiness, of the reminders, that she will find inside.

She halts as she steps inside the doorway of Pat's bedroom.

It takes her some time, nearly ten minutes, before she closes the door behind her and searches until she finds a jersey, of his, and some brown baggy sweat pants and blue socks.

She changes quickly, pulls her hair up, sets the towel down and climbs slowly on to his bed. The shirt she wears smells of him, as does his bedsheets.

She slides underneath the sheets of the bed slowly, pulling the blankets up to cover her body entirely.

It is _almost_ light outside, it is almost morning, and as much as she wants to go be with Pat, the exhaustion that she feels overwhelms her and sleep takes her, leading her gently into a world in which she finds Pat.

She finds Pat, in her dream, in a soft yellow light, resting on his bed, wearing her favorite gray jumper. He's smiling at her, speaking to her, and when she focuses, when she tries to pretend that it is real, that he is here with her, she can hear him speaking to her.

"_Sorry, for staring." _he says, a small smile resting on his features as he speaks to her.

And she wants this, she wants it to be real more than anything in the world.

Tiffany convinces herself that it is real, that he is here with her, that it isn't a dream, that she never lost him and he was never hurt.

She smiles back at him.

Words fail her.

"_I know, I'm creepy and crazy. I know. I know. But I'm your crazy creep." _he whispers, softly, as he brushes his hand across her forehead to push the hair off of her face.

"_You're not creepy or crazy, Pat."_ she replies, sharply. _"You're not. You're mine but you are not creepy or crazy."_ she answers, quickly.

"_I'm yours, Tiff."_ he says, not asking but rather stating, declaring, that he is hers as long as she will have him.

"_As long as you'll have me."_ he promises.

Always, she thinks.

"_Always." _she promises.

He smiles.

"_But I'm not real, Tiffany."_

Her smile falters.

"_I know you want me to be, and I want to be too, but I'm not real. I'm not really here." _he softly whispers.

"_Pat, you need to wake up. You need to be here. You need to be here." _she pleads.

"_Tiffany..."_ he whispers, soothingly.

A smaller smile flickers on his features.

"_Wake up..." _he whispers.

Tiffany wakes gasping.

She wakes to a cold room, an empty room, a dull room lit up by the fading sunlight outside. Her stomach growls, her head throbs, and she feels a wave of dizziness sweep over her.

She turns towards the clock on the wall and finds that it is seven thirty, at night.

She all but jumps out of bed, nearly tripping over the blankets as she climbs out of them. She rushes quickly down the stairs, so quickly and loudly that she catches Ronnie's attention.

Ronnie, Danny and Jake had been watching football, while they waited to hear back from Dolores and Pat Sr. who had, only minutes earlier, received a telephone call from the hospital asking them to come down.

They watched the football to distract themselves from the possibilities which floated constantly through their minds.

"Why the fuck did no one wake me?" Tiffany shouts out, as she comes down the stairs.

Ronnie approaches her first.

"You looked peaceful, Pat Sr. wouldn't let anyone wake you." Ronnie answers, honestly.

Jake and Danny stand from the couch and walk slowly towards Tiffany, who has just stepped off of the last step and entered the living room.

"It's seven fucking thirty." she states.

"I know. We know that, Tiffany. We got a clock." Danny replies, without thinking.

"It's okay, Tiffany." Ronnie assures her.

Her frown deepens as she casts her eyes over the room.

"Where are-" she begins.

"They just got a call." Jake says. "To come down to the hospital." he adds.

Tiffany appears to be moments away from snapping, from shouting, from breaking entirely.

"If it's anything important, they said they would call back straight away." Jake adds.

"Anything important?" Tiffany repeats, purposefully drawing out the word. "Everything about Pat is important." she states, loudly.

"All we can do is wait, here." Ronnie assures her. "That's all that we can do." he adds.

She crosses her arms around herself, the frown remaining on her features as she does.

"Look, Tiffany – Why don't you eat something, it's been a while since you have. Shower. And I can guarantee you that by the time you're done, we'll have news on Pat." Ronnie says, with a caring tone.

She seems disbelieving and reluctant.

"I promise you, Tiffany, if we hear anything you'll be the first to know." Ronnie assures her.

Tiffany is exhausted with stress, her body aches from the fresh bruises which still mark it, her head pounds with an incessant headache, her worries overwhelm her, the pain she feels throughout her body causes her to feel numb, and as she steps inside the small shower she feels the exhaustion trying to take her, to lull her to sleep, to a rest she deserves.

She turns the cold water on, allowing the iciness of it to cool her skin.

Her physical exhaustion, her stress, and her lack of consuming any food in the past hours takes its toll on Tiffany.

Tiffany's eyes close first, she feels her body swaying almost, like she can't stand still. She reaches out for the glass door, of the shower cubicle, but with her eyes closed she cannot find it.

Tiffany slips; her feet slip on the tiles and she falls harshly down on to the tiles, hitting her head so roughly on the ground that it cuts the side of her forehead, instantly, and as the darkness claims her, overwhelms her, lulls her to sleep, her first and last thoughts are of Pat.

* * *

When Dolores and Pat Sr return home, an hour after they left, they are able to tell Ronnie and Danny some good news – Pat woke alone, while the family was at the house.

Despite that Pat was only awake for a brief amount of time, he was good, he would get better, all that they had to do was give him more time to rest, and return in the morning.

"Where's Jake?" Pat Sr. asks.

He pauses.

"And Tiffany, where's Tiffany?" Pat Sr. questions.

"Hey, pop. Any news?" Jake asks, from the staircase as he quickly comes down it.

"Pat's going to be fine." Pat Sr. answers, quickly. "Where's Tiffany? Has she been up?" he asks.

"Yeah, yeah. She was up." Jake replies. "She got up, freaked out and I convinced her to have a shower. But, er..."

"What?" Pat Sr. asks, frowning slightly. "What? What is it?"

"That was, like-" Jake begins.

He glances towards the clock and then returns his gaze to his father's.

"An hour ago. Maybe more." Jake says.

"What, she's still in the shower?" Pat Sr. frowns.

"Yeah. I mean, we've been up there knocking, calling out, after we got worried but I didn't want to walk in on her, Pop, you know privacy and all that. I didn't think it was right." Jake says.

"You don't think she hurt herself, do you?" Dolores asks.

"Let's knock again, see if she answers." Pat Sr. suggests.

Dolores nods in agreement.

She follows Pat Sr. up the stairs, Jake, Danny and Ronnie stay closely behind them, as they all care for Tiffany and hope that nothing is wrong, and that she is fine.

When Pat Sr reaches the bathroom door, he presses his ear to it and hears that the water is still running. He lifts his hand to the door and knocks loudly, repeatedly.

He receives no response.

"Tiffany?" Pat Sr. calls out.

Still, he receives no response.

He reaches for the door handle and turns it, just to see whether it is unlocked, and finds that it is unlocked. But he doesn't push it open, he doesn't want to intrude on her if she is in the shower, so he turns to Dolores because it's the only solution he can think of.

"Uh, it's not – I'm not. I'm not going to go in," Pat Sr states, taking a step back and releasing the door handle. "You should go in, just check she hasn't hurt herself or fallen asleep."

"Me?" Dolores asks.

"I think so. I think it should be you." Pat Sr. nods.

Dolores agrees immediately, because she is so worried, so concerned, about Tiffany at this point that the idea that she may see her naked doesn't bother her because Tiffany's wellbeing is what matters.

She steps towards the door and reaches for the handle, she turns it and opens the door slightly, taking a small step inside. She closes the door behind her and then turns back towards the bathroom.

The small shower, in the corner of the room which is enclosed by glass and a curtain, is where she believes that Tiffany is as she is nowhere else in the room. Her clothes have been piled up on the bench, beside the sink, and her towel has been placed beside that.

"Tiffany?" Dolores calls out, taking quick steps towards the shower.

As she reaches it, she peers through the glass and sees a painful sight; Tiffany, lying on her stomach, collapsed on the ground, water hitting her heavily, blood filling the bottom of the shower.

Dolores gasps and covers her mouth.

She steps inside the shower, leans over Tiffany's body, and turns off the cold water.

Dolores then reaches for the towel on the bench and covers it over Tiffany's back. She bends over and presses her fingers to her neck, searching for a pulse which she finds.

"Everything okay in there?" Pat Sr. calls out.

Dolores doesn't answer immediately.

She kneels down, places her hands underneath Tiffany's shoulders, and very slowly and carefully helps her upwards.

Tiffany is not entirely unconscious now but she is barely awake. Her eyes flutter between being closed and open, she is slow, she doesn't speak, she doesn't appear to even recognize what is happening.

Dolores wraps the towel around Tiffany's body with one hand and then directs her over towards the toilet, she closes the lid and sits her down on it.

"Come in, quick." Dolores frantically calls out.

Pat Sr. enters without hesitation, and he enters to find a frantic looking Dolores standing beside a bloodied, closed eyed, pale Tiffany.

Jake enters next, the worry clear on his face as he sets his eyes down on Tiffany.

"What happened?" Pat Sr. asks.

"She must have hit her head, there's blood everywhere." Dolores almost cries.

Tiffany's head is badly cut open, the blood still continues to trickle down the side of her forehead, dripping on her skin and the floor.

"We got to get her to the hospital, Pop." Jake suggests. "I'll get the car ready." he says.

"She's so cold." Dolores whispers.

"Get her dressed in something warm." Pat Sr. suggests.

Danny joins Jake downstairs, Ronnie reaches the nearest phone and dials Veronica's number, then he will call Tiffany's parents number.

Pat Sr. heads downstairs, and searches in the kitchen for bandages to place on her forehead, while Dolores quickly dresses her in the clothes she was wearing earlier. She dresses her quickly and once she has finished, Pat Sr returns, dries her forehead, and places a bandage over it.

"Tiffany, Tiffany you have to talk to me." Pat Sr says, as he slips one arm around her back and another underneath her legs.

He picks her up off of the toilet and carefully carries her out of the bathroom, down the stairs, and towards the car which Jake and Danny are waiting in. Dolores meets Ronnie in the kitchen, who has just called Tiffany's parents and Veronica and they will be on their way here to pick him up, and then they will go to the hospital.

Pat Sr. places Tiffany in the backseat, he slides in after her and Dolores takes a seat next to him.

Jake sits at the driving wheel, Danny sits in the passenger seat.

He drives towards the nearest hospital, the hospital which Pat is in.

As they drive towards the hospital, Pat Sr. keeps Tiffany propped up beside him, he tries to talk to her, to coerce her to talk to him, to respond, to speak at all but she doesn't answer, she doesn't say a word.

Tiffany isn't with them, she's in the darkness with Pat, she's with the person whom she always wishes to be with.

* * *

**A/N: Hi all :) Firstly, I'd just like to thank everyone who reads my story. It truly means so much to me, and I am so happy to know that someone out there is enjoying reading my work, so thank you and I doubt I'll ever be able to thank you enough or express how grateful I am. **

**I want to apologise for the lateness of this update. I'll just say that life got in the way, as it usually does, and I'll try to update quicker - I'm sorry.**

**I'd also like to say I know, Tiffany Pat have been and are going through a lot, and I know Pat's been beat up a lot, and know Tiffany is also in hospital, but I promise there is a point to all of this, there is a reason, and you will see this in the next chapter. I promise, happier times are to come. Stick with it & you'll see these happier times.**

**Thank you all, lovely, reviewers. Your reviews make me smile & inspire me, so thank you:**

**Dear Guest reviewer; I gotta; who posted on 5/12/13:  
**Hi :) Thank you so much for reading and reviewing my story, it truly means so much to me and I loved reading your review. Haha, I apologise that you are starting to get irritated. I really just wanted to convey that she has had bad past experiences, and she is struggling, but I promise that you will see something big coming from Tiffany, a big step forward, in the next chapter. What exactly that step is, you'll have to wait and read. :) Thank you for leaving such kind words, I truly am so happy and relieved that you thought it was a perfect update. Haha! They will, soon enough, I promise. And I do hope it was worth the wait. Thank you so much, I hope you enjoy this new chapter just as much. x

**Dear Guest reviewer; Guest; who posted on 5/12/13:  
**Hello :) Thank you so much for reading and reviewing :) I'm really so happy and relieved that you thought it was another awesome chapter, and I do hope you enjoy this new update. Thanks for reading. x

**Dear Guest reviewer; Guest; who posted on 5/10/13:  
**Hi :) Wow, thank you so much. That is such a lovely compliment, and such a relief that you think I write them so well. Thank you very much, and thank you for reading and reviewing my story, I truly appreciate it. :) x

**Dear Guest reviewer; Guest; who posted on 5/9/13:  
**Hello :) I'm very happy to read that you loved it, that really means a lot to me as well as knowing that you are still reading my story. I'm very grateful. Thank you. :) x

**Dear Guest reviewer; Guest; who posted on 5/9/13:  
**Hi :) I'm so happy you thought it was awesome. Thank you so much for that, I really do appreciate your kind words as well as you taking the time to read and reviewing my story. I hope you enjoy this update. :) x

**Dear Guest reviewer; shoa; who posted 5/23/13:  
**Hi :) Thank you so much for reading and reviewing my story. It really means a lot to me, so thank you. I'm sorry for leaving it on such a cliffhanger, and this chapter isn't much better in regards to that. You will all find out what really happened to Pat in the coming chapters, and it'll be worth it. :) Thanks again. x

* * *

Also, just quickly - I had an idea in regards to this story that I wanted to run by you lovely readers.

So, I won't tell you why they will do it but I was considering having Tiffany and Pat enter another dancing competition a little later on (like I said, I won't say why they do it) but I had some pretty good ideas (I thought they were good) and while I'm not that good at describing the dancing motions I thought I would have a go at it, it could be fun, and that you might enjoy reading this?

Anyway, it was just a thought.

So let me know yours thoughts & I do hope you enjoy reading. :)

x


	8. Silver tears

**Disclaimer: Silver Linings Playbook is copyright to Matthew Quick and David O Russel. All Rights Reserved. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made. I claim and own nothing.**

* * *

The sound of a beeping monitor is what wakes Tiffany.

She wakes slowly, her head throbbing, her body aching, as she opens her eyes to a bright and blinding light.

She finds Veronica by her bedside, a smile resting on her face.

"Hey." Veronica whispers, softly.

Tiffany frowns, she doesn't understand why Veronica isn't here, she doesn't know where here is.

"What- Where..." she begins, slowly.

"It's okay, Tiffany. It's okay. You're in the hospital." Veronica soothingly says.

Tiffany tries to move.

"Pat, where's-" she begins.

Veronica places soft hands on Tiffany's wrists, stopping her from moving too quickly.

"Pat's fine, Tiffany. He's good. You need to take it easy, okay?" Veronica suggests.

"What...Me?" Tiffany asks.

Her eyes focus on her surroundings.

Pale blue walls.

A constant beeping.

She glances down at her body and finds she is dressed in a hospital gown, resting in a hospital bed.

"Me? What...I don't..." she begins, lifting her head to her forehead.

Tiffany winces and immediately regrets touching her head.

"You hurt your head, Tiffany, but you're going to be fine." Veronica promises, still smiling softly. "They just need you to stay in overnight, just to make sure." she says.

"I, I...I need to see him." Tiffany whispers, as she slowly rests her head down on her pillow.

Veronica nods.

"You will but you need to take care of yourself. You need to rest." Veronica says.

Tiffany's lips part like she might object but Veronica doesn't let her.

"You don't get a say in it." she says quickly. "You're resting, Tiffany. Sleep tonight and then tomorrow you can see Pat. Okay?"

Tiffany sighs and shuts her eyes.

"Okay." she murmurs.

* * *

Tiffany rests for hours, she sleeps with ease, and when she finally wakes she finds that it is early morning, and that her headache has almost faded away entirely.

She finds that she is not alone.

Pat Sr. sits in an armchair by her beside reading a newspaper.

Upon noticing that she is awake he sets the newspaper down and glances up at her.

"Tiffany," he begins. "How are you feeling?"

"I, uh..." Tiffany starts.

She stops, coughs to clear her throat, and briefly closes her eyes.

"I'm fine. I feel fine." she says, slowly opening her eyes.

"How's Pat?" she asks, unable to hide her obvious worry.

"He's good. He woke up last night. The doctor's said he was good, his memory wasn't lacking and his neck was fine." Pat Sr. informs her. "They said he wanted to leave, kept trying to get out of the bed so he could get home. They threatened to sedate him so he gave in. That sounds like him." he says, a small smile resting on his features.

Tiffany manages a small smile.

"Do you remember what happened last night?" Pat Sr. asks.

Tiffany swallows tightly. "Parts." she admits. "I must have slipped..." she murmurs.

"You did. Dolores found you." Pat Sr. informs her.

She says nothing.

"Pat's going to be okay, he's a fighter, our boy. I mean, he has so much to fight for, doesn't he? He's got his family, he's got the diner, and above all he's got you too. And I think that's what he wanted to come home to, I think he wanted to come home to you." Pat Sr. says, as he speaks he watches Tiffany very carefully, very closely.

Her eyes burn with tears that she cannot seem to hold in, she allows a few to escape, they fall on her cheeks, but she wipes them away just as quickly as they appear.

"Tiffany, I promise you Pat's fine. He's going to be good. Have faith in him." Pat Sr. says, softly, as he places a reassuring hand on hers. "Now, I know the food is shit so Dolores cooked you up a little something. She should be back any moment."

"Thanks." Tiffany smiles softly.

"I didn't do anything. I didn't cook it." Pat Sr. answers.

"I mean, for everything...For finding me. I don't know...Just thank you." she says.

"If anyone should be saying thank you, it should be me." Pat Sr. replies.

"Why? I didn't do anything." she replies, with a clear uncertainty in her voice.

"Didn't do anything? Tiffany, you did everything." Pat Sr. says. "You brought my son back to me, you gave Pat a purpose. He's better with you than he's even been in his life, he's happier and healthier too, and it's because of you, it's because he loves you."

* * *

Pat Sr. left Tiffany after Dolores returned with her food because her parents stepped inside and he believed that they would need some time alone with their daughter.

He left her and joined Dolores in Pat's room.

When they entered they found Pat awake and it was a sight that caused both of their eyes to light up and smiles to spread on over both of their faces.

"Oh, Patty!" Dolores exclaims, smiling widely.

She rushes to Pat's side, embraces him carefully, and places a soft kiss to his forehead.

"I'm so glad you're okay." she whispers.

"What are – I don't..." Pat begins, softly.

"It's good to see you up, Pat." Pat Sr. says, leaning down and pressing a kiss to Pat's forehead, just as Dolores did seconds earlier. "I knew you'd be okay. I just knew." he murmurs.

Pat manages a small smile. "It's good to be up. Well, kind of. My head hurts. So do my shoulders, my neck is pretty sore. And fuck, my chest hurts like you would not believe."

"You were beat up, Pat." Pat Sr. solemnly states.

Pat meets his father's gaze slowly.

"Who would want to do this to you, Patty?" Dolores almost cries. "Who would want to hurt you? You didn't do anything wrong, you never do, you're a good boy."

"I don't know, ma, I don't- I don't – my head is fuzzy. Fuck, it's just pounding." Pat replies softly.

"You were hurt badly, Patty. You've been in here a couple days." Dolores answers.

"I have?" Pat frowns.

Dolores nods.

"A couple of days?" Pat asks.

She nods again.

"I don't..." he murmurs.

"What do you remember, Patty?" Dolores asks. "About who did this?" she asks.

Pat sighs shakily. "I don't know, ma...Last thing – I was running, they must have come from behind." he mutters.

And then, a sudden absence dawns upon him.

Pat shifts noticeably, like he's considering getting out of bed, Pat Sr. stops him from doing so.

"Whoa, Pat, slow down." Pat Sr. says. "It's alright. It's okay. You're okay."

"Where's Tiffany?" Pat asks, frantically because he's worried that she isn't here. "Where is she? She's okay, isn't she? She's alright?"

"She's fine, Pat." Pat Sr. insists, silently doubting that now is the best time to inform Pat that she is in hospital too.

But Pat catches something in his mother's eyes; a flicker of worry, guilt maybe, and clear concern and this is enough for Pat to know that something is wrong, something has happened,with Tiffany.

Pat panics.

"What is it? What happened? What's wrong, ma? Pop? I know it. I know something happened." he says, speaking so quickly, so fast, that the only catch the occasional word.

"Slow down, Pat, you're talking like a fucking realtor. Just slow down and breathe, okay? Just breathe." Pat Sr. insists, placing a gentle hand on Pat's shoulder.

Pat quickly shakes his head like he's not listening, like he can't breathe, like he can't calm down until he knows the truth, until he knows that Tiffany is okay.

"I can't. I can't." Pat shakes his head.

"What, you're saying you can't breathe?" Pat Sr. asks, his voice rising with worry.

"You want me to get a nurse or a doctor?" Dolores asks.

"No, I'm fine. I mean, I can't be calm until I know what happened. What's wrong?" Pat asks, glancing quickly between his mother and his father.

"Tiffany's fine." Pat Sr. promises.

"She's fine? What do you mean, she's fine?" Pat questions.

"I mean that she's fine, she's okay. She just hurt herself." Pat Sr. replies.

Pat breathes in sharply. "What?" he asks.

He receives silence first, and then he speaks too quickly to allow them time to answer.

"What the fuck do you mean by she hurt herself?" he asks, loudly.

"Patty, calm down." Dolores pleads.

"I can't calm down if she hurt herself. What do you mean? What the fuck happened? How did she hurt herself?" Pat asks, his voice rising with each word that passes his lips.

His forehead is creased now, in a permanent frown.

"She slipped in the shower, Pat. She hit her head, cut it open, but it's nothing. It didn't need stitches, she's fine." Pat Sr. answers, softly, his hand still resting on his son's shoulder.

"Where is she? She's at home?" Pat questions.

Their moment of hesitation gives Pat his answer.

"She's here?" he asks.

"She's resting, Pat." Pat Sr. says.

"I need to see her." Pat insists.

"You need to rest and she needs to rest." Pat Sr. counters quickly.

Pat still shakes his head quickly. "I can't, I have to see her."

"Not yet. She's resting, Pat. You'll see her soon enough." Pat Sr. says.

Pat groans loudly in agony.

He sighs with frustration.

"How bad was it?" he asks, finally. "How bad?"

"She was left unconscious for a little while, they were mostly concerned about that, but she woke up fine." Pat Sr. informs him.

"What do you mean, 'a little while'? Where were you?" Pat questions.

"We were here with you." Dolores says.

"Pat, you need to focus on yourself, on healing yourself, and recovering." Pat Sr. reassuringly grips Pat's shoulder. "Tiffany is going to be fine, and you will be if you take care of yourself." he promises.

"I can't focus on myself." Pat admits. "She's all I think about, of course I'm going to focus on her and not myself. I can't."

"For now, just think about you." Pat Sr. sighs. "Stay in bed."

"Pop." Pat pleads.

"As long as I'm in this room, you're staying in that bed." Pat Sr. quickly announces. "As long as the doctor's say you need rest, you're resting. You don't have a say, Pat, you need to take care of yourself." he says.

Pat sighs loudly, with frustration.

"I need to see her." he states.

"You will, soon enough, alright?" Pat Sr. says, as he walks towards the chair by Pat's side.

"Maybe after you eat something, shower, and the nurses see to you?" Dolores softly suggests, as she gently soothes Pat's shoulder, rubbing it gently so he may calm down.

And he does calm down significantly.

"Yeah?" Pat's eyes almost light up as he speaks.

"Yeah." Dolores smiles. "I'm sure they could arrange something."

"You think so, Pop?" Pat glances towards his father.

"I do." Pat Sr. nods in agreement.

"Okay." Pat nods once.

"So, you'll take it easy to then?" Pat Sr. questions.

Pat agrees. "Okay."

"Pat?" Pat Sr. says.

"Yes. I will. Yes." Pat replies, quickly.

Pat Sr. is more inclined to believe it now as Pat seems more focused, more calmed, and this is all because of the simple idea that he may see Tiffany soon.

"Good." Pat Sr. states.

"I'm so glad you're okay, Patty. We're so relieved." Dolores smiles kindly. "I'm going to bring you some of your favourite soup, okay?"

"Ma, you don't have to do that." Pat answers.

"I already made it, I'll just go home and get it. Okay?" she says.

"Okay." Pat replies.

"Rest, Patty." she presses another kiss to his forehead.

"I will." he answers, lowly, as he briefly shuts his eyes.

Once Dolores has left the room, Pat Sr. speaks first.

"You know who did it, don't you, Pat?" Pat Sr. asks,

Pat keeps his eyes firmly shut.

"I don't know, Pop." he lies.

"You're still a bad liar, Pat. You always have been." Pat Sr. replies. "Don't lie to me, son. Don't lie to me."

"Okay, okay." Pat sighs.

"You think it was that guy from the bar, what was his name?" Pat Sr. answers.

"I don't know. Dick something." Pat murmurs, opening his eyes slowly.

"You think it was him?" Pat Sr. questions.

Pat pauses. "They didn't steal anything, I don't know who else would want to..." he begins but halts.

"You have to be smart about this, Pat." Pat Sr. announces.

A deep frown immediately forms on Pat's features.

"What? What do you – what does that mean...I have to be smart? I didn't realize I was being dumb before?" Pat answers.

Pat Sr. sighs. "That's not what I mean, Pat. What I mean is even if it was these guys, we don't have proof. No witnesses. What I'm trying to say is don't take it into your own hands."

"I'm not going to take it into my own hands." Pat answers quickly.

"You know what will happen if you do, don't you? They'll send you away and no one wants that." Pat Sr. states.

"Believe me when I say I don't want that." Pat quickly answers.

"So, don't take it into your own hands." Pat Sr. says.

"I won't. I promise." Pat promises.

"You promise?" Pat Sr. checks.

"I promise, Pop." Pat says.

"I believe you, I do, I always have." Pat Sr. says. "I just don't want to lose you again." he admits.

Pat manages a small smile. "You won't. I promise. I'm not going anywhere." he repeats, softly.

* * *

For the first hour, Pat had been up to seeing visitors.

He'd received visits from Jake, Danny, Ronnie and even Veronica came.

They each said similar things, like they were glad to see him up, glad that Tiffany was fine, and they were each honest about how well he looked which, according to all of them, was not so good.

He recalls Danny telling him he looked like shit but it only made Pat laugh, and Pat's laughter made Danny laugh even more.

Then, the exhaustion hit him.

So, he said goodbye to his visitors, with the exception of his parent's who refused to leave his room.

He ate his soup and watched a little television until it was switched off, and then Pat Sr. read columns to him, from the sports section of the newspaper, until he eventually fell asleep.

It was a soft, gentle, well deserved sleep which when he woke left him feeling significantly better than when he had woken only hours earlier.

And after some persuasion Pat had been able to convince his parents to allow him half an hour to visit Tiffany.

A nurse carried in a wheelchair, set it up, and insisted that Pat use it as his body was still injured and he needed time to recover. Pat agreed because he would almost agree to anything just so he could see Tiffany, and after he thanked his parents again, and gave them kisses on the cheek, he was assisted into the wheelchair by the nurse and wheeled out of the room.

Once outside the room Pat assured her he could get himself to the room in which he needed to go, she agreed, allowed him to leave on his own, smiled and wished him goodbye for now.

Pat moves slowly down the corridors, so careful not to miss Tiffany's room, and once he reaches it he halts outside of it.

Pat breathes in slowly, exhales loudly, before he reaches for the door-handle to Tiffany's room.

But it is opened from the inside and in seconds Tiffany's parents appear before him.

They smile at him, greet him, inform him how well he looks and how relieved they are to see him and then they step out of the way and allow him to enter Tiffany's room.

She's in the bathroom, they inform him, she'll be out at any moment.

They close the door behind Pat as he wheels himself inside and towards the end of her bed.

For a moment, Pat hesitates and decides where he will wait for her, if he will stand or sit.

He chooses to stand because he wants to hold her, he wants to embrace her, and wrap his arms tightly around her.

She enters in a hospital gown, her brown hair pulled up on her head, her curls falling down by her face, a thick bandage running down the right side of her head.

When she sees him she instantly stops, freezes almost, and for a moment she says nothing.

Pat smiles.

"Oh my god, Pat!" Tiffany exclaims, the words come out so fast that they are almost incoherent but he understands them because he understands everything about her.

A bandage runs across his head, another rests just above his ear, various bandages have been wrapped tightly on his wrists.

His eyes are swollen, the bruises around them are heavy, dark, and worse than Tiffany remembers them being.

She can view the beginnings of a thick, dark, black and purple bruise on the right side of his neck.

She covers her mouth with both of her hands, stifling a cry as she does.

"Hey, Tiff." he says, his smile remains.

She rushes towards him, runs almost, and when she reaches him she forgets about his injuries, she forgets about her own and pulls him towards her.

She gently places her arms on his cheeks and kisses him.

She pulls away and presses a kiss to his forehead and then to his cheek, and then another soft kiss to his lips before she takes a slight step away and wraps her arms gently and carefully around his chest.

"Oh, Pat." she whispers, burying her head in his chest.

He presses a kiss down on the top of her forehead, he keeps his arms around her as she is supporting him, holding him upwards, keeping him steady on his otherwise unsteady feet.

"It's okay," Pat murmurs. "We're okay."

"We're not okay. We're not okay. Look at what they did to you." she says, her voice cracks as she speaks.

Pat pulls back slightly, but keeps his arms around her waist, so he may view her.

Her eyes are filled with tears, which have begun to spill on her cheeks.

Her presses a soft, gentle kiss to her forehead before he wipes the tears off of her face with his hands.

"We're okay, we are." he promises.

She shakes her head. "I almost lost you, Pat, I came so close." she says, allowing herself to be vulnerable, to share these thoughts, these emotions, with him. "And it scared me."

"You won't ever lose me, I promise." he smiles.

"What did you do to yourself?" he asks, resting his hand gently near the area on her face on which her bandage has been placed.

She watches as he breathes in sharply, as his eyes seem to glisten with the threat of tears, how he seems so upset by the simple bandage on her head.

"Nothing, it was nothing, I just slipped – I don't care. I don't even care about that. I care about you. You're here. I didn't think – I was so worried, Pat." she whispers, sadly.

"I care, Tiff. I care about you. I was so worried when I found out. I'm fine, I am, Tiff. I'm sore. Real sore. But I'm okay." Pat answers, softly.

"You don't look okay." she replies.

"I am." he says.

"Pat." she sighs.

"I mean, I'd like it – I'd like to sit down, if that's okay with you? I mean, I might feel less sore if I'm sitting?" Pat suggests.

"Yeah, of course. Come on." she says.

Tiffany takes Pat by the hand, places her hand around the back of his waist, and helps him over towards her bed.

Pat grimaces but passes it off as a smile, as he slowly eases himself down on to the bed. He sits, half laying down, with his head against the single pillow, on his back, with his arms by his side.

Tiffany walks around to the other side of the bed, slides in it, lifts the blanket up over Pat and then covers herself with the blanket.

She takes Pat's left hand and holds it tightly.

More tears fall down her cheeks.

"I thought I lost you. I did. I was so worried, I couldn't eat, I couldn't sleep, and I kept – I kept seeing you, in my head, over and over and I just couldn't – I don't..." she murmurs.

Pat slides his right hand underneath Tiffany's waist and pulls her slowly towards him so that he is holding her closely, comfortably, as he has longed to since the moment he woke.

Pat manages a small smile.

"I'm okay." he whispers.

She is more than disbelieving.

"Pat..." she begins.

"What?" he asks.

"There's something...I need – I have to say." she says.

He frowns. "What is it? Are you okay?" he asks.

She nods once. "Yes, I mean I just..I need you to know something."

"What?" Pat questions, never lifting his eyes off of her, not even for a second.

"This is – I'm sorry." she softly says.

"For what?" he asks, clearly uncertain of what it is that she is trying to say, or what it is that she is apologizing for.

And then it dawns upon him.

"No." he says, quickly.

This is not her fault.

Tiffany is not the reason he was beaten, she is not the cause of this, she has no reason to be apologizing for this.

"No." he repeats. "This isn't your fault, Tiff, you don't have to say sorry about this. Don't say it." he says, quickly.

"Not just this, Pat, I'm not just sorry about this. I mean, I am so fucked up, Pat, and somehow you love me, I don't know how or why but you do and you're such a great guy and I just – I fuck things up." Tiffany begins.

She pauses only so she may release a long sigh.

"It's what I do. I mean, I push you away, I shout at you, I scream, I don't appreciate you enough, Pat, I don't tell you that I love you enough and I should, I should tell you all the time because I do love you, and I care about you so much and I went fucking crazy without you." she begins, speaking slowly, briefly glancing away from him.

She meets his gaze almost hesitantly.

"I couldn't cope, Pat, because I don't think I can cope without you. And I know, that's a lot of pressure on you, having someone depend on you so much, and you probably think that I'm needy but I'm not. I'm not, you know that. What I'm trying to say is I'm sorry for fucking things up, because I have, and it's what I do, and I don't want to do it but it always seems to happen. I'm just...I'm sorry." she says.

Pat simply stares at her, lips parted slightly, an impassive expression rests on his face, once she has finished.

It dawns upon him now how difficult it must be for her to confront her feelings, to say she loves him, to admit what she feels, to be close to him.

He knows that Tiffany has suffered, he knows that she has survived but she has only just scraped through, and he knows that her wings are broken but they are healing, she is healing, and he will help her to heal any way that he possibly can because he loves her, because he will only ever love her, because she is his and he is hers, because she is his silver lining and he is hers, because she is his soul mate.

"What?" she asks, after releasing a very loud sigh.

Pat smiles at her, and it is such a sweet smile but Tiffany doesn't understand this, she doesn't understand why he is smiling at her after she has just apologized to him for all of her mistakes, her faults, and her flaws.

"What?" Tiffany frowns, sounding defensive already.

"What?" he replies, his smile widening.

"What are you smiling at?" she frowns.

"You love me." he smiles.

"What?" she asks, her frown remains,

"You just said you love me." he says.

She nods once. "I know."

"You do?" he asks.

She nearly rolls her eyes,

"Pat, of course I do." she replies sharply.

"You love me?" he smiles.

"That's what you take away from it? You skim past my apology, and the part about me being so fucked up, and you just-" she begins.

Pat kisses her.

He stops her from speaking, he leans towards her, he places a gentle hand on her cheek and kisses her.

He pulls away eventually, resting his head ever so gently and carefully against hers.

His hands fall down to hers and he holds them.

"I don't need an apology, you didn't do anything, Tiff." he whispers, softly. "I know you've been through a lot but you're not fucked up. And I love you, so none of that matters. What matters is we have each other." he says softly.

She smiles, a few more tears fall but she doesn't take notice of them.

"We do?" she asks, like she's uncertain, like she's fearful that she will lose him.

"Always." Pat promises.

"I love you, so much, Pat." she whispers, her grip on his hands unintentionally tightening.

He smiles at her, like she is all he sees, like she is all he cares about, like he loves her so and he does.

"I do. I always knew it, right from the start." she tells him.

"Come here," he whispers.

He shifts his body so he is resting on his back, so she may place her head on his chest, and she lies down softly against the side of his chest, not wanting to cause him any further pain.

"I love you." he whispers, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead as he finishes speaking.

"We're okay?" she whispers softly, almost timidly, almost like she's frightened, worried that they'll never be okay again.

Pat softly promises her, "We will be, with time – and we have so much time."

"Pat..." she says, softly, after the minutes of silence slowly pass.

"Hm?" he replies, his weary eyes closed, his hand softly caressing her hair.

"I love you." she says.

He smiles. "I could get used to hearing that."

"Good." she replies.

"Good." Pat answers, still smiling.

"It is..." she murmurs.

"You're sleepy." he comments.

She makes a low, incoherent, mumbling sound that he doesn't quite catch, doesn't quite understand.

"Sleep." he says.

She sighs shakily, and he understands so much by something so simple as Tiffany Maxwell sighing.

"Tiffany.." he whispers, softly, soothingly, in her ear. "I'm not going anywhere." he says.

She stays silent, still unconvinced.

"Tiff..." he holds her closer. "I'll still be here in the morning." he says.

She buries her head deeper against his chest.

"Good." she says.

* * *

**A/N: Hello, all :) I'd just like to thank everyone who reads, reviews, favourites or follows my story. The reception I've received for this story has been very overwhelming and I am so very happy and relieved that people are interested in reading it and seeing where the story goes. It truly means so much to me and I really doubt I'll ever be able to thank you enough.**

**I apologise for any spellings errors (although, I hope that there aren't any). I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

**I'd also like to say thanks to who has stuck with my story & assisted me recently with an idea/scene between Veronica, Tiffany and Veronica's baby Emily. You will be reading that scene in a few chapters. Thanks/**

**Guest reviews:**

**Dear Laura: 5/27/13 on chap. 7:  
**Hi, Laura :) Yes, I know, it was a pretty big cliffhanger haha! I apologise and I hope you like this new chapter. It makes me so happy to read that you love my story and have been following it! I hope that you enjoy this most recent update and enjoy the happy ending of it. I'm glad to hear that the conflict does keep you interested, as there is bound to be a little more arising in the future. Thank you for reading and reviewing my story, it means so much to me & knowing you've been following it and have stayed with it also means so much. x

**Dear shoa: 5/24/13 on chap.7:  
**Hello, shoa :) I know, another cliffy! I can't promise it'll be the last cliffy in this story, but it'll be the last one for a little while. I'm glad you enjoyed the little interaction that they had, even though it was a dream interaction, and I hope you enjoy this chapter and their real interactions. Thank you for reading and reviewing my story, it truly means so very much. x

* * *

**Thanks, again, to all who read this story.**

**I hope you enjoy.**

**X**


	9. Silver always

**Disclaimer: Silver Linings Playbook is copyright to Matthew Quick and David O Russel. All Rights Reserved. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made. I claim and own nothing.**

* * *

Pat wakes slowly, to an almost blue light which is soft and falls gently on the quiet room.

He wakes alone, a blanket draped over his body, the blinds pulled down so to prevent the bright sunlight from sneaking in.

His eyes flicker over the room and he finds that there is a dull light sneaking through the crack underneath the door in the corner of the room - the bathroom.

Pat sighs softly, pulls his body up slowly but quickly regrets such a movement as a sharp pain shoots throughout his body. He breathes deeply through gritted teeth, as he attempts to focus on something, anything, apart from the pain.

His eyes flicker towards the door, not the bathroom door but the door to the hospital room, and he watches as a dark haired man with light green eyes, dressed in the nurse's uniform steps through.

He frowns as his eyes settle down on Pat.

"Hi, I'm Nurse Barker – Oh, I'm sorry," he begins. "I think I have the wrong room.." he states, frowning slightly as he steps towards the charts at the end of the bed.

"No, no. You have the right room. You do. I'm just – I'm a guest." Pat says, quickly.

He moves so that he is sitting upwards.

The nurse frowns slightly as he reads the charts at the end of the bed.

"What?" Pat frowns.

"This is Tiffany Maxwell's room, right?" he questions.

Pat's frown remains. "Uh. Yeah, why?"

"Oh, nothing." Barker smiles, quickly meeting Pat's gaze. "She was a patient in here a couple months earlier, that's all. I just remember her.."

Pat coughs to clear his throat.

"Uh...Isn't there something called patient doctor confidentiality?" Pat asks, his voice unintentionally rising.

"Yeah, there is. She wasn't my patient. I just heard about her." Barker answers.

Pat stiffens up.

"Whoa. Whoa. Wait." he says, his hands lifted slightly in the air. "What the fuck do you mean you heard about her?" Pat narrows his eyes.

Barker hesitates.

"What do you mean?" Pat repeats.

Barker takes a slight step towards Pat. "Just between you and me?"

Pat briefly considers the words. "Sure." he says, finally.

Barker sighs. "Let's just say that she was on of the crazier ones."

Pat releases a loud, heavy sigh. "Oh no.." Pat murmurs.

"What?" Barker frowns.

"If you say that again, I'm going to knock your teeth right out of your fucking mouth and I don't want to do that." Pat sharply threatens.

Barker raises his hands slightly, a small smile on his face. "Whoa, man, calm down. I'm just trying to warn a brother."

"'A brother?'" Pat snorts. "Okay. Firstly, I have a brother. His name is Jake. He's not you. He's better than you. My brother would kick your ass if he were here, and if I could get up with ease I'd kick your ass. I have a brother and it's not you. We are not the same, and you don't have to warn me. I know who she is."

"Really?" Barker asks.

"Really? What the fuck – Yes. I do. I know who she is." Pat says, becoming more and more worked up by the second.

"I know who she is and what she makes me feel. And look, you should keep your head out of my business, and her business, because it isn't your fucking business. It's hers and mine. She's mine. I love her, okay? I love her smile, her laugh, and her voice. I love how she makes me feel better, makes me be better, and do better. But she doesn't try to change me, she never tried to change me, and I know that's what love is, but I'm changing anyway, for the best, and I know that this is all for the best. I feel better already." Pat says.

He speaks so loudly, so confidently, that his words echo into the bathroom and Tiffany, who has her ear pressed up against the door, can hear his and Barker's words with ease.

"Whoa, I just-" Barker begins.

"Shut up. Just shut the fuck up." Pat loudly instructs. "You don't know anything about her, okay? You don't know anything about her, or about me, and about the way that she makes me feel. God. She makes me feel so many things, things I never felt before. It's fucking beautiful. It's powerful, and strong, and I just know that I'll never feel it again. I love what she makes me feel, and how she makes me feel, and I love how I feel when I'm with her. I love her beauty, how beautiful she is – but not just her physical appearance. Yes, she's the most beautiful woman in the entire world but not just in regards to her appearance. I love the beauty inside of her, there is so much for it, and she's so good, she's good for me, and I like to think that I'm good for her. And if you say one word about her again, I'm going to knock your fucking teeth out, okay?"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry- I didn't." Barker begins.

"Just watch what you say, okay? Words hurt. You're a nurse, in a fucking hospital, have a little bit more self-control over your words, have some more respect of your fucking patients, otherwise you might get reported." Pat states.

Barker nods once. "Yes, I understand. My sincerest apologies, sir."

* * *

_Four days later._

Pat returns home to rain.

He is discharged after four more days in the hospital, as the doctors wanted to keep a close eye on him to ensure that everything was as it should be.

The sky is pouring down with it, no sunlight is able to shine through, dark clouds hang heavy in the sky above.

The air is cold and uncomfortable.

Upon seeing the car returning, Jake rushes outside with an umbrella to meet his father and brother. Pat moves slowly out of the car, as he does he feels his brother's and father's attentive eyes firmly on him.

He moves a little faster, silently thankful that his brother has come to shelter him with an umbrella and assist him up the stairs.

Pat Sr. doesn't wait for Jake to return, and instead risks the rain so he may walk closely behind Pat, to ensure that he is fine and makes it up the stairs okay.

When they reach cover, Jake pulls the umbrella shut and quickly, but carefully, embraces his brother.

"Good to have you back." Jake smiles, his arms still around Pat.

Pat slowly reaches up and hugs him back.

"Good to be back, brother." Pat smiles.

Pat puts on a smile, despite that he feels exhausted.

He pretends that he isn't tired, that he feels much better, when truthfully his body aches and this aching pain only worsens with quick movements.

But Pat doesn't care.

He wants to be better, to feel better, to put all of this behind him and move on and so that is what he is focusing on doing; if he convinces himself that he is fine, that he isn't hurting, that he isn't angered by what happened to him and that his heart doesn't sometimes jump due to sudden or unexpected sounds or movements.

When Pat enters, he is first greeted by Dolores who hugs him gently, kisses him several times, and then hugs him again.

Danny and Ronnie greet him next, they both hug him carefully and briefly and comment on how terrible he looks, and Pat cannot deny this, instead he agrees with them and laughs with them.

His bruises have worsened, the swelling has gone down but only slightly, and his cuts are painful red and raw reminders of what happened.

His eyes skim the room for Tiffany, he finds it empty.

Pat swallows tightly.

He hasn't seen her since for two days.

His thoughts have been tormenting him, as he tried, in these two days without her, to figure out what he did wrong, what he said, or what happened that she would withdraw from him again.

Perhaps, he believes, she wasn't ready to say those words to him, or she didn't love him at all and had come to a realization such as that.

"Tiffany. where's Tiffany?" Pat asks.

"I made your favorite meals." Dolores smiles kindly.

"There's a game on, in half an hour. Thought we could watch that together, Pat." Pat Sr. kindly suggests.

"Yeah. Yeah. Sounds good, that sounds great. But you know, Ma, Pop, I'm real tired. I am. I just – I need to sleep." Pat insists, because he does need to rest.

"What do you mean? You're going to sleep?" Pat Sr. frowns. "You spent days in that hospital, complaining that all you did was sleep-" he begins.

"If he wants to rest, Pop, let him. He needs it. Look at him." Jake cuts in.

Pat sighs. "Okay, so I think we've all established that I look like shit. I feel like shit too. I just – I want to sleep in my own bed. Okay? Is that not okay?"

"No, Patty. That's fine, sweetie. That's fine." Dolores smiles. "You can go upstairs and sleep, and when you wake later you can eat. Your food will be waiting for you, like we will be."

"Ma, no. You don't have to wait for me, no one has to wait for me. I just- I want things to go back to how they were, okay? Because if I think about it too much, if I think about being beaten up and left for fucking dead, I get really mad and I just – I don't want to, okay? So can we not be like this. Can you all just not walk on fucking eggshells around me?" Pat says, quickly, loudly, and with a slightly rising, aggravated tone.

"We're not, Pat. We're not walking on eggshells." Pat Sr. says quickly, as he places a gentle and reassuring hand on his son's shoulder. "We're just looking out for you because we love you."

"I love you too, Pop." Pat smiles back.

And it is the first smile Pat Sr. has seen on his son in days.

"You sure you're okay?" Pat Sr. asks, with a much lower tone.

Pat nods once. "I'm fine. I'm good. I just need to sleep, in my own bed."

"Okay." Pat Sr. nods his head once. "Sleep."

Pat moves up the staircase at a speed that his body is comfortable with; a slow, steady, easy speed. When he reaches his bedroom he finds the door slightly ajar.

He thinks nothing of it, reaches for the handle and pushes it open.

He finds Tiffany Maxwell sitting on the end of his bed, dressed in a long sleeve, baggy red sweater and black tights. Her hair is curled, pulled up on her head, and a clean white bandage rests on her forehead.

She simply smiles at him as he enters.

He finds himself almost at a loss for words, for he has missed her in these past days more than he ever dreamt was possible. He shuts the door behind him and quickly moves towards her.

"Tiff.." Pat sighs with relief.

When he reaches her, she stands and he embraces her softly, and gently, but he holds her with a longing, like he has needed this, needed her, and that he almost couldn't wait any longer to see her or hold her as he is now.

"Pat." she whispers softly in his ear, her hands gently falling to his back.

He holds her tighter. "I missed you. Where- Where have you been?"

He pulls back and meets her gaze.

She smiles.

"I was tired. Really worn down. My, er..My parents restricted me to bed-rest, for something so simple as a fucking cut to the forehead." Tiffany responds, as she lowers her hands to her sides.

Pat shakes his head.

"No, don't. Don't say that, Tiff. Don't say that." he says.

She frowns slightly. "What?"

"You're speaking like it's nothing, but it's not. You were hurt. That means something to me. Don't say that, okay. That makes me worry. What- What are you doing up here? Does my family know you're up here?" Pat says.

Tiffany releases a low sigh. "Yeah. I slept here a couple of nights, while you were...I hope that's okay."

"Of course it's okay. I mean, my bed is yours. It's ours." he answers.

Tiffany hesitates, her eyes flickering quickly over Pat as she does.

"How are you feeling?" she asks softly.

"Fine. I feel fine." Pat replies, with no moment of hesitation.

"You don't look fine." she counters quickly.

Pat releases a low, annoyed groan. "Why does everyone keep reminding me of that? I know. I know. I look like shit. I look fucked up but, you know what? I don't feel it, okay? I feel fine."

A frown sets on Tiffany's features.

She shakes her head once.

"You don't look like shit, Pat. You just look like...You're in pain." she answers, with a warm, softness to her tone.

Pat takes her hands and holds them.

"I'm fine and I'm not in pain. Okay?" he tries to convince her, to lie to her.

But it doesn't work.

She knows him too well.

"Don't." she says, anger lacing her tone.

"What?" he frowns.

"Lie to me." she says.

Pat shakes his head quickly. "I'm not-I'm not."

"I know when you're lying, Pat. I know you." she counters, quickly.

Pat releases a deep sigh, which he'd been holding for a moment, before he speaks again.

"Okay, so I'm in a little pain," he admits, "But, Tiff, it's nothing. I promise."

"Mm." she murmurs, seemingly still unconvinced. "You need to rest." she states.

"You're not – no. I don't want to if-" he stammers.

"I'll stay with you, Pat." she promises.

"You will?" he checks.

She frowns. "I want to. I want to stay."

"You do?" he asks.

She pulls her hands out of his, dropping them down to her side. "Of course. Why would you ask that?" she questions.

"I don't know. Just...You don't have to stay, if you don't want to." he murmurs.

"Yeah, because I've got better things to do." Tiffany scoffs.

She pauses before she softly says, "Pat, believe me when I say you're the only person that I want to be with. This is the place I want to be right now."

"Yeah?" he looks up finally, to meet her gaze again.

"Yes." she smiles.

Pat watches as Tiffany walks away from him, steps towards the light-switch and turns all but the colored lights hanging from the ceiling off.

The room is dark, barely lit up, and his eyes quickly adjust to this setting. He glances quickly at the water stained windows, dripping still with the continuous drops of rain, before he turns towards Tiffany.

"Come on." she says simply.

He removes his shoes and rests down on the bed, lying on his back with his head against the pillow and his hands by his side. She joins him, resting beside him on her side, she reaches for a blanket at the end of his bed and pulls it up so that it is covering his body, and hers, and keeping the two of their bodies warm.

Once she has pulled the blanket up, Tiffany briefly looks up to meet his gaze.

She smiles.

"What?" he asks.

She releases a low sigh before she sets her head down, gently and softly, against his upper chest. He allows her to rest there, he likes to feel her close to him, needs to feel her beside him.

Pat sets his arm down against her shoulder, his hand gently soothing her skin.

"It's good to have you back." she whispers softly.

His smile remains. "I missed you so much. I did. I was going – I just..." he halts and sighs. "I just missed you. So much."

"You too." she murmurs against his chest.

He watches silently as her right hand hesitates before moving slowly, up and onto his chest. She sets it down on his chest, resting her palm out flatly before she begins to trace invisible patterns on his chest.

"Pat?" she says finally.

"Mm?" he answers.

"Can we just stay here..Today?" she asks, almost timidly, like she's afraid he'll refuse, like she's afraid this is all a dream.

"As long as you like." he promises.

She seems disbelieving, her silence is indicative of this.

"What?" he asks, watching her closely still.

"Nothing." she lies.

"You're a bad liar. I know you too well." he states. "What is it?"

She sighs shakily. "I just..."

"What?" he repeats.

"I dreamt of you." she admits, finally. "I know, it sounds-"

"I dream of you all the time." he admits.

A small smile tugs at her lips.

She lifts her head and looks up towards Pat, so that she may meet his gaze, so that she may look into his beautiful, sweet, kind eyes.

"You do?"

He smiles. "Yeah. I do. Especially in the hospital, when I couldn't see you."

"What did you dream about?" he asks, watching as she rests her head back down against his chest.

"You." she says.

He doesn't push her.

He waits for her to continue, to speak when she is ready, and she does.

"We were here, we were happy..But it wasn't real. You said it yourself. You said you'd be mine always but it wasn't real." she admits, and there is an obvious pain to her voice, like she may have believed it wasn't real.

He holds her closer.

"It's real now, Tiff. It's always going to be real." he gently promises.

"Pat..." she murmurs softly.

"Mm?" he responds.

"I love you." she whispers.

He smiles, reaches forward and presses a soft kiss to the top of her head.

His lips part, like he might say to her how much those words mean, how he truly is so appreciative to hear them, how these words mean the world, but he falls silent as she tilts her head upwards so that she may meet his gaze.

Her soft eyes meet his eyes and he says nothing.

"And I'm sorry," she says, "For everything. For not being appreciative enough, for being crazy, for pushing you away, for everything...I don't deserve you. I know that. But I'm going to try harder, I'm going to try to be better so I deserve you."

Pat sighs.

"Tiff, don't say that." he says, sounding disappointed that she still thinks this, still believes she isn't good enough for him.

She is good enough for him, she always has been and she always will be. They're good for each other, they always will be. They make each other better, happier, stronger, and he hates that she still doubts herself, doubts that she's 'good' enough for him, doubts that she's 'worthy' enough to be with him.

"It's true, Pat." she sighs.

He sounds angry. "It's not true." he counters quickly.

"It is," she sighs.

Pat groans loudly.

"What?" she frowns.

"I love you, Tiffany Maxwell, more than anything else. I do. And the reason I love you is because you make me better. You deserve me just as I deserve you, we deserve happiness and we have that – we deserve a silver lining and this is our silver lining. We have to take it with both hands and never let it go. And I'm never letting you go, because you're my silver lining. Okay? Trust me. Believe me." Pat says softly.

She bites down on her bottom lip.

"Okay?" he repeats.

She nods. "I do. I trust you."

"Good." he replies. "Now, believe that you're good enough, believe in yourself. I see the good in you, every moment that I'm with you. I know it's in there, you just have to believe it yourself."

She smiles. "I'm trying."

"I know." Pat soothingly whispers, as he pulls her against his chest and sets her head down upon him. "I know you are. And I'm so thankful that you are. I'm so grateful for you. I'm just – I'm happy. I am so happy with you. I want you to be happy too. I want you to be equally happy and I just...I feel like you can't be when you're doubting yourself. Sure, I doubt myself. I doubt myself every day. I doubt whether I'm good enough for you but then I think – It's not about that. We, as humans, shouldn't have to worry if we're 'good' enough for someone else. We are. We're all equal. Sure, we've all made mistakes, some of us are fucked up worse than others, but at the end of the day we're all equal. And we just have to believe in ourselves, believe in the good that is in our hearts. You have to believe it too. And I'm not – I'm not stopping until you believe it."

* * *

Pat wakes in pain.

He wakes to a dark room, the only light that enters it shines down from the colored lights on the ceiling.

He wakes feeling terrible, feeling broken and beaten, and he doesn't want to move, he doesn't want to get up from his bed, but as he glances sideways and finds Tiffany gone he wants to get up, wants to search for her, and just as he begins to move his bedroom door opens.

Tiffany enters.

"Hey," she smiles as she catches sight of Pat, resting against the bed with his eyes open.

He smiles back. "Hey."

Tiffany shuts the door behind her and takes slow steps towards Pat's bed, her eyes never leave his, and his eyes never leave her.

"Good to see you up," she comments, "You went out like a light."

His smile remains. "I don't really remember..."

"You talked a little before you fell asleep." she lies, smiling almost cheekily.

Her smile is a dead giveaway to Pat but he pretends to believe her regardless, as he is quite interested in where she plans to take this conversation.

"Did I?" he frowns, rubbing at the side of his forehead.

"I can remind you, if you like?" she suggests.

He glances towards her as she retakes her position on the bed, beside him. She slides underneath the covers and rolls on her side, propping herself up with her hand, so that she may look directly at him.

"Sure." his smile remains.

"It was just the usual stuff, you know. You proclaimed your undying love for me, admitted that your parents like me better than they like you, and then you stated I was the most amazing person in the world."

"I think I remember that." he grins.

And she finds his grin so charming, so beautiful, and so sweet.

Her smile widens. "You also said that you'd be one hundred percent honest with me, always."

"Aren't I already? I thought I was- I don't- I don't lie to you." he says, quickly.

Her smile remains. "I know, Pat. I know you are. And, on that note - How are you feeling?"

"Ah." Pat sighs. "Better." he answers, honestly, because he feels better than when he was in the hospital, he feels better now even after moments of waking because she is here with him and she always takes his mind off of the pain, she always draws him away from the darkness and allows him to bathe in the soft and warm light of peacefulness.

Tiffany's smile falters, Pat notices this and he watches as it disappears entirely from her face.

She lifts her hand slowly, he notices a slight tremble to it, and moves it towards his face.

His eyes stay open as she softly runs her gentle fingers over a dark bruise on his neck.

She bites down on her lip to stop the hot tears she feels forming in her eyes.

"Tiffany..." Pat softly murmurs. "I-" he begins, but as his lips part, as he continues to speak, she stops him.

She stops him by kissing him.

Tiffany leaves her hand resting on Pat's neck as she leans in and presses a warm, yet cautious, kiss to his lips.

He kisses her back, he tastes her love but also her fear in this kiss.

She breaks away briefly. "I'm sorry- your lip..." she murmurs, her fingers gently resting against his lip.

Her eyes flicker over the bruises around his eyes, the bruises that rest on his neck and forehead, and the cuts flickered across his skin and she has to bite down on her lip again.

"It doesn't hurt." he promises.

She doesn't respond.

He kisses her.

Pat reaches towards her, his hand gently guides her lips down towards his, and he kisses her softly, gently, but there is an underlying passion, a need, a desire to feel her lips against his, to taste her love, to feel close to her and comforted by her.

"I don't want to hurt you." she breaks away again.

"You never could." he states, sounding so sure that she could never hurt him even if she'd intended to.

"If I recall..." she murmurs softly, her fingers gently running down his nose. "I think I gave you this."

"You could never hurt me." he promises her.

And she believes him because of the look in his eyes; she sees complete and utter trust in his eyes, such strong love, but it is the flicker of need, like he needs to be close to her, to feel loved by her, that catches her attention.

It is this need that causes her to kiss him again.

She wants to love him, to feel loved by him, but above all she wants to make him feel loved because he is so deserving of it.

She presses her lips softly against his, her hand slides down gently against his cheek, and she moves closer to him, leans in towards him, because she needs this to, she needs to feel close to this man she loves so much and she needs him to know this, to know how much she needs him, but above all she needs him to feel loved, to feel her love, and to feel needed.

There is less caution behind this kiss, less fear of hurting the other.

Passion replaces the caution, desire replaces the fear.

Pat slides his hands up Tiffany's back, resting them there carefully and gently before he pulls her closer towards him, pulls her down so that she is resting on top of him, so that her body is on top of his.

He needs this closeness just as much as she does.

"Pat..." she sighs, breaking the kiss again. "Your ribs..." she says, trying to pull away from him, to break away from his embrace so she won't hurt him.

He lies. "It doesn't hurt."

She doesn't believe him. "It does. You're lying." she snaps.

"Don't lie to me, Pat. Don't lie, okay?" she says, her voice rising unintentionally.

"Tiff. Tiffany, listen – Okay? When I'm with you, I don't feel any of the bad things. Okay? I promise. It doesn't hurt bad." he answers, before he lifts his head up slightly and kisses her again.

She sets herself back down against him, slides her legs on either side of his legs, and begins to press soft, warm kisses to the bruises on his neck.

Pat pulls her away from his neck, longing to feel her lips against his, desiring another sweet kiss.

His hands slide down from her back and to her waist, but as he touches her stomach she winces.

And he can't deny hearing the sound, despite that it is muffled, despite that she breaks away and returns to his neck, pressing gentle, healing kisses to his bruises.

"Tiffany..." Pat murmurs.

He pulls his head away from her lips.

"What's wrong?" she frowns slightly.

"What's wrong with me?" he frowns now. "What's wrong with you?"

She doesn't want to talk about this, she doesn't want Pat to see her bruises, to know what that man did to her, how he hurt her and caused her pain.

She tries to pretend she doesn't understand what she's talking about.

"What?" she asks.

He simply holds her gaze.

"Pat." she sighs. "I don't understand."

"I know you too well," he counters, "You can't lie to me."

"Pat-" she starts.

He reaches for her shirt, he tries to see beneath it, to see the bruises that lie beneath – he'd never intended to look underneath her shirt, he wouldn't invade her privacy like that, he was searching for an honest answer, a reaction that he was sure she'd give if she was hiding something.

And he knows she is hiding something by the way her hand drops to his, how she stops him from seeing what lies beneath, what caused her to wince.

She leans back, still sitting on top of his legs, a frown resting on her face.

"Tiffany, what happened-" Pat starts.

The sudden opening of Pat's bedroom door causes him to fall silent.

He glances towards it to find his father entering.

"Pat, Tiffany, I -" he begins but stops. "Oh, sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to intrude. I should have knocked."

"No, that's fine." Tiffany quickly pulls herself off of Pat.

"Tiffany..." Pat sighs, sitting up quickly.

He watches as she slides out of bed.

"We weren't doing anything." Tiffany says.

Pat Sr. appears more than unconvinced but he says nothing.

"I was just – Dinner is served, if you're hungry?" he asks.

Tiffany smiles. "Sounds great. I'm starving."

"Okay. Okay. We'll be done in a minute, Pop." Pat responds.

Pat Sr. manages a small smile, gives a slight nod of his head, before he retraces his steps and exits the room.

"Tiffany," Pat moves slowly and carefully from the bed.

"What?" she turns towards him.

"You winced." he says.

"My head hurt." she lies.

"I thought you said we'd be honest." Pat frowns.

"No, I said you promised it." Tiffany replies quickly.

"What, and you can't promise me that?" Pat asks, stepping towards her. "You can't promise me honesty?"

She shifts uncomfortably under his intent gaze.

"Tiffany?" he sternly says, needing and expecting an answer.

"I don't know, Pat, okay?" she says. "I don't."

"I trust you, Tiff-" he begins.

"Fine," she says, quickly. "It's a bruise, okay?"

Pat's frown deepens, his eyes fall to her stomach, to the place where his hand had rested and caused her pain, and although he cannot see it through the garments she wears he believes it to be bad due to the painful sound which had escaped her lips at the lightest touch.

"From when you fell in the shower?" Pat asks.

Tiffany's obvious hesitation gives Pat his answer, the true answer.

"_He_ did this to you?" Pat nearly shouts.

"Pat, Pat – I don't want to do this, okay? I'm starving. I'm sure you are too. Can't we talk about this later?" she asks.

He sighs and runs his hands over his forehead.

"Later?" she asks.

Pat sighs. "We are talking about this."

"Yep." Tiffany answers, softly.

"You promise?" he asks.

She nods once.

"I promise."

* * *

**A/N: Hello. I just wanted to thank everyone who takes the time to read my story, it means a lot to me. Thank you also to the kind reviewers, your words mean a lot. I apologise for any spelling mistakes.**

**I know this chapter is a little slow but I felt like it was necessary, lots of the dialogue included was pretty important, and it will sort of be a key in the moving forward of the story but I think you might understand what I'm saying after you read the next few chapters.**

**Guest reviews:**

**Guest: posted on 6/1/13. chapter 8:  
**Dear, Guest. :) Thank you for reading and reviewing my story. It means a lot to me and I'm glad you are enjoying it. I hope you enjoy this new update. x

**theiphonegirl: 5/30/13. chapter 8:  
**Thank you for reading and reviewing my story. :) It means a lot to me. I hope you enjoy this new chapter. x

* * *

Thanks and I hope you enjoy.


	10. Silver love

******Disclaimer: Silver Linings Playbook is copyright to Matthew Quick and David O Russel. All Rights Reserved. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made. I claim and own nothing.**

* * *

"How are you doing today, Pat?" Dr. Patel questions, as he watches Pat enter his room.

Pat moves slowly towards the chair, taking a seat down in the chair, easing his body down, before he begins to fidget with his hands.

"Yeah. Yeah. I know, I know. I know what you're thinking. You think I look like shit. I'm fucked up. Yeah, I know – Everybody is staring at me. I look like a fucking panda. I know. But can we just not talk about that, okay?" Pat says, speaking quickly and loudly. "I don't – I really don't want to fucking talking about this. Okay? Let's just get it out into the open that I look like shit."

"Why don't you want to talk about it, Pat?" Patel asks, taking his own seat, his eyes staying closely on Pat.

"I just don't, okay? I thought that was pretty self fucking explanatory. It makes me uncomfortable." Pat responds.

"Why, Pat?" Patel questions.

Pat sighs. "Fine, fine. When I think about it, when I think about getting beaten and left for dead, it makes me mad. When I think about it, I want to put my fucking head through a wall – and then, and then I change, and I want to put their fucking head through a wall, and it makes me mad, okay? But what's worse is when I think of how they hurt her, I want to fucking beat them. I can't control it. I can't. Fuck. It makes me so mad, that I don't think I can control it. I don't. So I don't like to think about it. Not only does it make me fucking angry, it makes me uncomfortable."

Pat releases a low, aggravated sigh. "But I don't want to talk about me today. Not today. No, today can we talk about something else – can we talk about Tiffany?"

"Of course, Pat. You can talk about whatever you want." Cliff nods.

"So, Tiffany, then? We can talk about her?" Pat questions.

Patel nods once. "What exactly, about Tiffany, do you want to talk about?"

"What exactly, about Tiffany, do I want to talk about?" Pat asks.

He doesn't wait for an answer.

"I don't know. I don't know exactly. But there are things – She avoids me sometimes. I don't know why the fuck she would do that. I don't know. Is there something wrong with me? Is there something I did wrong? I mean, she didn't even leave the house or anything. She avoided me when we were in the same house. I don't understand. Why would she do that? Why? Is it because I'm pushing things? Is it too soon for her to be in a relationship? I mean, I think we're in a relationship. I love her. Oh and did I tell you? She said she loves me too. I mean, hearing those words – fuck. It made my heart swell. It was great. It was beautiful. She's beautiful, and our love is beautiful, but I don't understand why she's avoiding me." Pat says, with a much lower and slightly sadder tone.

"That's great that she confessed her feelings for you, Pat. From what you've told me, I gather that would be a very difficult thing for her to do, considering all that she's been through." Patel answers softly.

Pat shifts in his seat. "I know, I know it is. I wasn't expecting it, I wasn't asking for it – but, the uh...I don't know much about what she's been through. Sure, she's told me a few scattered details here and there but the overall story of her past is a mystery to me and I don't want to push her because I'll end up pushing her away and I don't want that. I don't. I never want that. I want her always. The thought of losing her terrifies me. It terrifies me to my fucking core."

"Give her time, Pat. All that you can do is give her time, let her know she can trust you, and she might come around, she might share these things with you. But you can't push her, Pat." Patel says.

Pat nods once. "I know and I'm not. I won't push her. Back to what I said – She's avoiding me. I mean, she was hurt. I told you, you know about that guy that had the fucking nerve to come onto her? Well, he hurt her. He bruised her, and I didn't know. I didn't fucking know. And then, you know, last night we were kissing, and it started to heat up a little, and it was really great, and then I put my hand on her waist, near her stomach, and she winced. She winced and so I asked her what was wrong, she wouldn't show me. She said it was a bruise and she promised me, she promised me we'd talk about it, but we didn't. We didn't talk. She had a shower and after I had a shower she was sleeping and I couldn't bring myself to wake her because she looked so peaceful. And I didn't – I didn't want to leave her. I didn't want to come here. No offense to you. I mean, you're great, you're a great guy and I think that you're really helping me overcome some of my issues – but I wanted to stay with her. But I had to come, because it's part of the deal, and I just...God. I just want to feel closer to her and I want her to feel close to me, like she can trust me, and I just...I don't want to push her away. And I just feel like I'm in a fucking difficult situation. I feel empty when I think she doesn't trust me enough to talk to me. I want to help her. I do. I'm fucked either way. If I don't push her, if I don't try, I feel empty and if I do try I risk pushing her away."

"Hm." Patel sighs. "I think, Pat, what you need to do is talk to Tiffany about this. Not about her issues, but about your own."

"My own – what issues? You mean the Bipolar or do you mean the shit with Nikki? Because that's over. I mean, when I hear that song I don't feel anger, I don't feel anything. I don't love Nikki. I love Tiffany, more than I ever loved Nikki, and I need Tiffany, she makes me feel good about myself. And – wait, I'm sorry. What was your question? I mean, what was your suggestion?" Pat answers.

"You need to discuss your own issues with Tiffany, and by that I mean talk to her about how you are feeling, Pat. Your feelings are important, Pat. Tell her that you feel empty, that you want to be closer to her. I think you should talk to her." Patel replies.

"Well, if it was that fucking simple I would've done it already." Pat mutters.

"May I ask you something, Pat?" Patel asks.

Pat nods. "Sure. Sure. Of course, anything. Ask away."

"Where's your wedding ring?" Patel asks. "I couldn't help but observe that it was missing from your finger. Did you remove it?"

Pat glances down to his hand to find that it is indeed bare of his golden wedding band. A frown flickers on his features but it only remains on his face momentarily as he soon realizes that where it is.

"It's in a bag, with my belongings from the hospital. I haven't gotten around to seeing them." Pat answers.

"Are you going to put your ring back on, Pat?" Patel questions.

Pat hesitates. "I haven't thought about it."

"Think about it now." Patel suggests. "And take into consideration what you just told me about not loving Nikki anymore."

"You're right," Pat says, "I mean, I don't love her. I know that. You know it. You're a fucking genius. Tiffany is hesitant about talking to me, about sharing, because she's insecure, she doesn't know if I'm committed to her completely?"

"Perhaps, Pat. That could be one of the reasons. I suggest that you talk to Tiffany about how _you _are feeling, give her time to talk to you on her own terms. Okay?" Patel responds.

Pat nods. "Okay, okay. Sure." he answers.

"Oh, and Pat, I do have a recommendation, of sorts." Patel says.

"What?" Pat replies.

With a soft, and understanding voice, Patel says, "When you were dancing with Tiffany, training for the competition, you were happier, your emotions were more under control, and now you, as you just told me, want to put your head through a wall. You need to control these emotions. I believe the best way to do that would be to relieve your physical condition, the pain that you are no doubt feeling, and so I would suggest, as a form of both physical and mental therapy, that you pick up dancing again. Of course, I highly disprove of any strenuous activity, such as attempting to lift Tiffany up into the air, but I do recommend light movements, stretching, and perhaps being with Tiffany while doing this will help you two to connect more."

* * *

Pat finds Tiffany at her place, exiting the bathroom, a towel wrapped around her body and her hair tied up on her head.

When she catches sight of him, standing in her hallway, she smiles.

"Hey," she says, "How did the session go?"

"Good. Good. It went great." Pat smiles.

She returns the smile. "Good, that's great."

"Pop said you came back here, that's how I knew to come here." Pat answers.

Tiffany nods once.

She reaches for the light in the bathroom and switches it off before she turns towards Pat, meeting his gaze again.

"Dr Patel actually recommended something." Pat says.

He catches a flicker of a frown dart across her features.

"What?" she asks, curiously.

"He suggested that, to alleviate my 'physical condition', we pick up dancing again. Nothing too much, or too difficult, but he said it would help to control my emotions, my feelings, and all of that. So, I was thinking – actually, I was hoping we could pick that up again." he announces.

Her smile widens. "Of course, Pat. I'd like that."

"You would?" he checks.

She nods. "I'd love it." she replies.

"So, you'll be my partner again?" he asks.

"Of course, Pat. I'll always be your partner. You need me," she smirks, "With your left feet and inability to hold a girl up in the air."

Pat laughs. "Yeah, he said we shouldn't do that right away, not until I'm healed."

"I don't think we should try it again," she laughs now. "It didn't go too well last time."

"Alright," Pat clasps his hands together. "I'm going to run home, change, and I'll meet you back here in an hour?"

The smile vanishes entirely from Tiffany's features as she painfully recalls the last time he left her house, and how that resulted in him being beaten up and left for dead.

"Tiffany..." he starts softly.

"Wait for me," she nearly pleads.

"Let me get changed, and we can walk together." she says.

He doesn't argue. "Sure." he smiles. "I'll wait in the kitchen."

They walk to Pat's place holding hands, Tiffany initiated it by softly sliding her hand into his the moment they stepped out of her front door, neither sad a word, and they held hands the entire walk to his house.

Once inside Pat goes upstairs, to get changed quickly, while enters the living room to find Pat Sr. sitting over papers on the table, a deep frown rests on his features.

"Oh, hi, Tiffany." Pat Sr. glances up briefly, a smile spreads on his face. "Good to see you and Pat up and moving."

"It's good to be up and moving," she responds.

Tiffany hesitates. "Is something wrong?"

"Yes -no. It doesn't matter. Just diner business, that's all." Pat Sr. responds.

"When's the big opening?" Tiffany asks curiously. "When will we get to see it?"

"I've restricted everyone, but Dolores, from seeing it until it's finished. It's a big diner. Real nice. Well, I think so." Pat Sr. responds. "The opening should be in four days."

"What do you mean, should be?" Tiffany frowns slightly.

"The cooks we hired can't make it for a month, at least." Pat Sr. sighs. "And while Dolores is an excellent cook, I don't want her working day in and out. And with Patty, how he is.."

"How is that?" Pat asks.

"Well, your face. It's fucked up, Pat. I can't have you working at the register, serving customers, 'cause you'll scare them." Pat Sr. responds.

"Gee. Thanks, Pop." Pat answers quickly.

"Pat, my boy, you know what I'm saying." Pat Sr. says.

Pat quickly asks. "Wait – so you're saying I can't work there anymore?"

"No, no. That's not what I'm saying. That's not what I'm saying at all. What I'm saying is that you shouldn't work until you're better." Pat Sr. protectively responds.

"What about Tiffany?" Jake, who had just stepped out of the kitchen, asks.

Tiffany frowns. "What about me?" she asks.

Pat also frowns. "Yeah, what about her?" he asks, somewhat protectively.

"Pat was going to work the register, serve food, clean up – wasn't he? Sometimes cook?" Jake asks.

Pat Sr. nods. "Yeah, he was, he was..Why?"

"Why don't you get Tiffany to do it until he's better?" Jake suggests.

Pat Sr. returns his gaze towards Tiffany, who stands, somewhat awkwardly, besides Pat.

"Me?" she frowns, gesturing towards herself.

"Yeah. You." Pat Sr. nods once.

"Yeah, brother. That's a great idea. It's a family diner, and Tiffany is practically family – I mean, I think so. I don't want to assume. Sorry, if I'm just talking shit." Pat stammers.

Tiffany's frown deepens. "You want me to work in your diner?"

Pat Sr. nods approvingly. "Yeah. I do. I mean, it would certainly ease the stress of finding another worker in such little time."

Tiffany releases a long and deeply held sigh. "Oh, I mean..I don't know. I don't think so."

"Why not?" Pat Sr. questions.

"Yeah, Tiff. Why not?" Pat asks. "Me, personally? I think it's a fucking wonderful idea. Wonderful. Good idea, brother."

"Okay, I don't know why I have to remind you of this, Pat, but last time I was in a diner it didn't turn out well. Besides, I'm not good with customer fucking service. I have poor social skills." Tiffany says, quickly.

"You'd be better than Pat." Jake says.

"Hey." Pat quickly says.

"Pat, come on. You say a lot of inappropriate shit sometimes." Jake says.

Tiffany smirks at this.

Pat considers his words.

"Hey," he says, quickly. "You know words can fucking hurt. I know what I say. I know sometimes I say shit when I shouldn't. I'm working on it, okay? I don't know why people keep fucking say I'm inappropriate and thinking I'm being inappropriate when I'm not."

"I know you're working on it, brother. I know. I'm sorry. I'm real sorry." Jake says, quickly and sincerely.

Pat shrugs it off. "It's fine, brother. I do." he smiles, because he knows that Jake didn't mean to be offensive. "You're right. I need to learn when to keep my mouth shut."

"So, Tiffany?" Pat Sr. says.

She sighs. "I don't think so. I'm sorry, I mean – I don't have enough fucking patience for customers. And – No."

"You know what, Tiffany? I understand that. I understand. I mean, you clearly don't have patience. You're in a relationship with my son who is trying, and testing, and you still stay with him, but you clearly don't have patience for him, or his family. It's okay. I need a worker, I need you, but it's okay. Don't worry about it." Pat Sr. responds.

"Hey, pop. Don't – I don't know if we're in a relationship, or not? I don't know if we've talked about that. I don't know." Pat says, speaking over Pat Sr. as the entire time he speaks to Tiffany.

Tiffany releases a loud sigh. "Fine."

Pat Sr. frowns.

"What?" Pat asks.

"I said fine. I'll fucking work there." Tiffany says, with an impassive tone.

"You will?" Pat grins.

"You're sure about this?" Pat Sr. asks. "I don't want to force you."

"You're not. I mean, I guess...it might be good to work again." she manages a small smile.

"Really?" Pat Sr. asks.

"Really?" Pat grins.

She nods once. "Really." she answers.

"Ah!" Pat Sr. exclaims. "Thank you, Tiffany, thank you!"

He moves towards her. "Come here!"

They embrace, tightly and briefly, and Tiffany can't deny in this moment that she does feel, even if only slightly, like she could one day be a permanent member of their family.

"It'll be fun! It'll be good, I promise you." Pat Sr. smiles. "I knew, Pat, I knew when you brought her home she was a good one."

"Ah, no actually, you said the opposite-" Pat starts.

"And Pat can work out back." Jake smiles.

"What?" Pat frowns.

"You're not planning on going back to teaching, are you?" Jake asks.

Pat feels all eyes suddenly on him.

"You know, er...I hadn't really thought too much about that, Jake, but you know...Thanks for bringing that up. Thank for that. For bringing it up right now." Pat responds quickly.

"Pat, why don't you work out back? Cooking? At least until I get the cook in. You're a good cook. And your mother and I can help out too. And you know, Danny? I'll even consider letting him in. It's a family business. And he's what, your best friend? He's practically family, then." Pat Sr. suggests.

Pat grins at this, but shifts slightly. "That's a sweet gesture, Pop. A real sweet gesture but, you know – I just don't know."

"You're considering going back to teaching? Where? What school? You can't go back, Pat. Not to your old school, with Nikki." Pat Sr. states.

Pat glances briefly towards Tiffany just in time to watch as she shifts, somewhat awkwardly, at the mention of Nikki.

The smile has disappeared from Tiffany's face.

"Uh..." Tiffany begins. "I just – Shit." she announces, loudly. "I was supposed to meet Veronica, for lunch." Tiffany says.

Pat frowns. "You didn't tell me that. When did this happen? Am I invited?"

"This morning. She called. I, uh – It's a girls lunch, Pat. Ronnie's out. It's just going to be the two of that." Tiffany answers.

"What, really? Just you and Veronica?" Pat asks.

"Pat, you're avoiding my questions." Pat Sr. cuts in.

"Not right now, Pop." Pat says, quickly, turning completely to face Tiffany.

"What about the dancing?" Pat asks.

"What dancing?" Jake asks, after overhearing Pat's words.

"Are you thinking about another competition?" Pat Sr. asks.

"Can we just have a moment – Okay? Just one moment." Pat asks, and without waiting for an answer he takes Tiffany's hand and leads her outside, to the front veranda.

"What about the dancing?" he repeats.

"The lunch won't last long, Pat. I promise. We can dance all afternoon." she smiles.

"Really?" he asks.

She nods. "Really."

Tiffany presses a quick, soft kiss to his lips before she pulls away. "I'll meet you at mine, sometime later this afternoon."

Pat's brow remains creased. "Uh, sure. See you then..." he murmurs.

He stands still and in silence as he watches Tiffany walk away from him once more.

When Pat reaches Tiffany's house, he finds her mother outside.

She smiles warmly at Pat, greets him, and informs him that Tiffany's place is unlocked and that she hasn't returned yet.

Pat decides to talk to Tiffany's mother, and her father who soon joins them outside, for quite some time.

It is a pleasant, comfortable, enjoying chat for all.

* * *

"So, why'd you lie to Pat about a 'girls' lunch?" Veronica asks. "Oh, and by the way, that actually sounds very nice, Tiffany. I would really like it if we could do that at least once a week."

Tiffany shoots Veronica a look, which she is able to understand.

"Why?" Tiffany frowns.

"It was just a suggestion, Tiffany. Don't worry, we wouldn't eat 'girly' food. Real food, I promise. But I miss you, that's why, and I like having you over. If you and Pat aren't busy tomorrow night, why don't you come over for dinner?" Veronica suggests.

Tiffany smiles at this. "Okay."

"I'd like that. I really would." Veronica smiles. "As long as he doesn't wear a jersey," she says, her smile remains.

Tiffany manages a small laugh.

Veronica returns to where Tiffany sits, at the dining table, and places a cup of tea down in front of her. Veronica takes a seat beside Tiffany, places her own tea down on a coaster, and then glances up at Tiffany.

"Tell me why you're really here." Veronica instructs.

Tiffany sighs. "Nothing. Nothing. It's stupid. Okay? It's fucking stupid"

"Tiffany, nothing that you could do or say would be stupid." Veronica says, kindly and honestly.

Tiffany scoffs. "Oh, yeah." she answers quickly. "I left because they were talking about Nikki."

"Oh, Tiffany." Veronica sighs softly, placing a soft hand against Tiffany's shoulder.

"Don't 'Oh,Tiffany' me, like I'm some fucking sad puppy." Tiffany snaps back.

"I'm not, Tiffany. I'm not. I'm caring, that's all, showing an interest in your life." Veronica manages a small smile. "What about Nikki?"

"I don't know." Tiffany lies.

"Tiffany," Veronica says, sternly.

"Fine." Tiffany sighs. "I don't know why but she makes me feel...Fuck. I don't know. Uncomfortable. I know, it's stupid because her and Pat are over. But it's fucked up."

"I know." Veronica sympathetically rubs Tiffany's arm. "You're feeling insecure, because she and Pat were married, they were in love."

"I guess." Tiffany murmurs.

"Tiffany, sweetie, you have nothing to worry about. Nikki has moved on. She doesn't want to be with Pat again. Besides, I've seen the way Pat looks at you, the way he chases after you, he loves you. Okay? You're in love with him too, aren't you?" Veronica asks.

Tiffany hesitates. "I am. I just..."

"Whatever it is, sweetie, you can tell me." Veronica smiles warmly.

Veronica cares so deeply for her sister.

She knows that Tiffany is troubled, that she has been through so much and is still going through a lot, that she has dealt with a lot of pain, grief and suffering, but she also knows that her sister is a fighter.

Veronica understands that Tiffany lashes out, that she will continue to, because of the pain she has endured, but these moments don't bother Veronica, they don't cause her to withdraw from her sister, they make her want to hold her and care for her.

Veronica will always be there for Tiffany because she remembers who her sister was, before she was so irreversibly damaged and hurt, before the grief and pain set in, before she allowed her darker side to control her.

Veronica knows that Tiffany can never go back to being the person she was before but this doesn't bother her, because she loves her sister, regardless of her mood swings or her problems, and she will constantly support her, always be by her side, and forever love her.

"I love Pat, I do. But I think of _him_." Tiffany murmurs.

And Veronica understands.

"Tommy." Veronica says simply.

Tiffany nods once, presses her lips tightly together and attempts to avoid her sister's firm gaze.

"Tiffany," Veronica sets her hand gently on Tiffany's and squeezes it. "Don't feel guilty, for loving, for living. I know, it's difficult. I can't begin to imagine. But sweetie, you loved him and he loved you, and part of loving someone means you want them to be happy. And I know, with absolute certain, that Tommy would have wanted you to be happy without him, just like you would have wanted him to be happy without you, right?"

"Right." Tiffany mutters lowly.

Veronica forces Tiffany to look at her, by gently turning her head towards her as she cups her sister's cheek.

"Tiffany," Veronica softly says, "You and Pat, you make each other better. You heal each other. Tommy would have wanted this. He would have been happy. You have no reason to feel guilty, or insecure, okay?"

Tiffany does something unexpected, something Veronica wouldn't believe she would do; she embraces her sister.

She leans forward, slides her arms around her sisters waist and hugs her, holds her, embraces her tightly and seeks out the comfort that only a sister's arms can give.

"Sweetie..." Veronica whisper soothingly, stroking Tiffany's hair with one hand, rubbing her back with the other. "It's okay. You're okay. You're allowed to be happy."

"I am?" Tiffany asks, her head resting against her sister's shoulder.

Veronica smiles. "Of course you are."

* * *

When Tiffany arrives home, she steps inside the main house and greets her parents, asks how their days were, and soon finds out that Pat has been waiting for three hours.

The rain begins to fall outside, heavily and harshly, as Tiffany returns.

Time flew fast at Veronica's.

After they spoke of happiness, and of Tommy, Veronica kindly changed the topic. Tiffany enjoyed the afternoon with her sister, she enjoyed being around her sister and at the end of their lunch, as she was leaving, she turned to Veronica and asked if they could do this more often.

Tiffany won't forget the light, and the smile, that spread on Veronica's face over something so simple as having lunch together, or spending more time together.

Veronica embraced her sister, smiled at her, and said she would see her the next night for dinner.

And then, to her surprise, Veronica had called out that Pat could wear whatever he wanted and if that was a jersey then so be it.

Lightning comes next, followed seconds later by the roaring sounds of thunder.

Tiffany enters the studio to find Pat resting against the wall, a book in his hands, his eyes set on the paper.

He didn't hear her enter through the rain and thunder.

"Pretty interesting book?" she asks.

He glances up quickly at Tiffany, dressed in a long sleeve blue blouse, black tights, her curls out by her side and slightly damp, and he smiles at the sight of her.

"Hey." he says, standing up slowly.

"How was lunch?" he asks.

Tiffany manages a small smile. "Good, thanks. I'm sorry – I'm so late. It's almost night." Tiffany sighs.

"That's okay. I told my parents I was staying here tonight, they were cool with that – I mean, if you're cool with it. I hope you are." Pat says.

Her smile remains. "Of course I am."

"You want to dance?" he asks.

She hesitates. "I don't know, Pat. I don't know if you're up for it."

"I am. I want to. Although, I thought we could start with something slow?" he suggests.

She smiles. "Okay. Did you have a particular song in mind?"

"I did, actually." he grins.

Tiffany leaves Pat, to set up the music, while she closes and locks up the front door of the studio.

She returns to Pat to find him waiting.

The studio is dimly lit, the heavy clouds outside only cause the room to be darker than what it naturally is.

And then, as a strong bolt of lightning rips and echoes through the sky, the power cuts and they are left in darkness.

Pat laughs loudly. "Of fucking course!" he exclaims.

And she can almost see the wide grin on his face.

Of course this is their luck, as soon as they want to dance the power cuts out.

She is able to vaguely view his figure, just as he can view her, due to the small strips of light which slips through the windows.

"I have candles, upstairs." Tiffany informs him. "In the kitchen."

"Maybe we should call it-" Pat begins.

"Pat, no." she says, quickly. "I've been looking forward to this all day. I really have. I'm sorry I didn't get back sooner. I fucked this up. Fuck. I always do this. I mess shit up because I can't stop myself. Fuck."

"Whoa, whoa. You didn't. You didn't fuck this up, Tiff." he promises her, as he walks to her side. "We can still dance. We can. Do you have a CD player?" he asks.

"Yeah, I do. Why?" she frowns.

"Trust me. You stay here, set up the candles, and find the CD player." he suggests.

Her frown deepens. "Pat, you can't go out-" she begins.

"I won't. I'm just going inside, to the main house. Trust me. Okay?" he asks.

She hesitates.

"Tiffany, please." he says.

She sighs. "Fine." she snaps back. "Be quick." she states.

"Be careful going up the stairs." he calls out, as he moves slowly towards the doors.

Tiffany moves quickly but carefully up the stairs.

She searches through the kitchen until she finds the lighter she was searching for. She pulls together the candles she can find and shoves them into a bag. Then, she returns to her room, places a few of the candles down and lights them, so that they are not in complete darkness, and searches until she finds the CD player.

She carries the bag of candles downstairs in one hand, stopping briefly in the kitchen so that she may place a candle on the table and light it, and carries the CD player in the other.

Once downstairs, she unplugs the speakers and sets up the CD player, suddenly glad that it is battery operated and so doesn't require power if it is charged. And luckily, she finds that it is charged.

She wonders briefly what Pat is doing in the main house, and why he was so determined to go there.

She places the candles, which vary in shape and size but all rest in the same, candle glasses made of glasses. She only had a few, and after placing them upstairs in the kitchen and bedroom, she finds she only has four to use to light downstairs.

But after lighting the four candles she finds that they provide enough light, more light than they had without them, and that is all they need.

Pat returns suddenly, slamming the door behind him, dripping with water.

"Very nice." he smiles, at the sight of the candles. "Ah, the CD player! You found it. By the way, the candles look great. And they light it up pretty good. What a good idea of mine. I don't like to brag, but I have some pretty fucking good ideas sometimes." he exclaims, stepping towards it.

"What were you doing in the house?" Tiffany frowns.

"Well, I went there with the intention to find a certain CD, and I did, but I spoke with your Dad, who is great by the way. I spoke with your parents while you were gone. We had tea. Well, they had tea and I had a beer. And they were great. Anyway, when I went in there he said that he thinks the whole street went out. But it should be back up soon." Pat replies.

"You're dripping with water. Take your jumper off." Tiffany instructs.

Pat doesn't argue.

After removing the disk from it's case, purposely hiding it from Tiffany as he does, he steps away from the player and the candles and lifts his wet jumper off over his head and sets it down in the corner of the room, to try.

He turns towards Tiffany, his green short sleeve shirt sticking slightly to his body, his hair dripping with a few small droplets of water, a smile resting on his features.

"May I have this dance?" he asks, smiling sweetly.

Tiffany almost blushes and she doesn't understand why.

She feels nervous, her palms feel sweaty, and she feels her heart beating faster in her chest than it was seconds earlier.

She smiles and silently steps towards Pat, who has now extended his hand to her.

She takes it gently, and holds it with her right hand, her left hand hesitantly but gently settles on his lower back.

And just as Pat places his right hand on her lower back, the music begins to play.

Tiffany recognises the song immediately.

Unchained Melody.

She spoke to Pat about this song, weeks ago, about how it was a favourite of hers, and how she adored the Righteous Brothers.

_My love..._

Tiffany smiles. "Oh my god, Pat! You remembered." she says, and for some reason her voice comes out much softer, much more vulnerable, than she had intended it to.

His smile remains. "Of course I do, I remember everything about you."

"Even with all those bumps to your nose and head?" she asks.

"Even then." he grins.

They move slowly, easily, dancing to the soft, sweet, music. Their eyes never flicker away from the others, their hands hardly part and when they do it is only so Pat may spin Tiffany out – he spins her out gently, carefully, and then twirls her in, pulls her into his chest so that her back is resting against his chest, so that he may slide his hands around the front of her and hold her.

She lifts her hands to his arms and they sway like this, their bodies so close together, for a moment before he spins her back out and pulls her gently towards him.

They hold each other closer now.

Her hand rests much lower down on his back, as his does on hers, and they both hold each other closer, tighter, like they need this, like they have to be as close to each other as they possibly can be.

Pat gently sings the song, hums the beat, and as he does he holds her tightly, his hand stays tightly holding hers.

He feels his heart beating so fast.

And somehow, it was like they both knew, both agreed, that this was it.

The timing was right.

The mood was perfect.

The feelings were mutual.

Pat leans down towards Tiffany and kisses her slowly, sweetly, and softly, and she loves him for this, she loves how he cares for her, how he tends to her, how he is so careful and sweet around her.

She loves him because he has made her stronger, made her better, healthier, and happier – she never thought she could or would want to be happy again and then she found him.

And now she has him, and she loves him more than she thought was ever possible, more than she can ever explain, more than life itself.

She breaks away briefly, setting her head against his forehead.

She smiles. "Pat..." she whispers.

He watches her still.

"Yes?" he whispers.

"I want this." she murmurs. "I love you, Pat, I do." she soothingly says.

He smiles.

"And I love you." he replies. "I love you so much."

She smiles, feeling her eyes burning with hot, happy tears.

She reaches up, kissing him softly as she does, she places both of her hands on his cheeks.

She breaks away from his embrace, steps back and holds his hands.

"Tiffany..." he whispers. "You don't have to do – we don't have to. I will wait. I can wait for you. I can. I don't mind waiting."

She smiles. "I know, Pat. But I want this more than I've ever wanted anything. I want you. You're all I'll ever want."

"I just..." he sighs.

"What?" she asks.

"I don't want to hurt you." he softly admits.

The last thing that he would ever want to do is hurt his love.

"I don't want to hurt you either." she says.

"You couldn't. I'm healing." he smiles.

"And so am I. I'm healing. You're helping me heal, Pat." she places soft hands against his cheeks.

"You could never hurt me." she whispers, sliding her hands around his neck and embracing him.

He smiles and presses a quick kiss to her forehead.

His hands slowly slide to her waist, where they fall comfortably and rest.

She pulls back ever so slightly, so that their eyes may lock, and their lips may meet once again.

He kisses her, and it is a tender and gentle kiss.

But their kisses soon become sweeter, and stronger, and soon they're moving up the stairs, then they're in the hallway, their lips never parting for a second.

Tiffany guides Pat backwards, into her bedroom. His hands stay around her waist, hers rest around his neck.

The few candles lit in the room provide little light, but they can still see each other.

He presses her against the wall, his hands slide up her thighs and slowly up to her waist.

Her hands rest at the nape of his neck.

She pulls his body closer to hers out of a need to be, to feel, as close to him as is physically possible.

She reaches for his shirt, as he presses soft kisses to her neck, and slides it up over his body and then eventually off him entirely, breaking their close contact once more but only briefly for he is kissing her seconds after his shirt is on the floor.

She runs her hands up his chest, gently and carefully over his bruises, to his shoulders and then down his back, trailing softly and slowly down it. She kisses him now, wrapping her legs around his waist as she does.

He picks her up, steadily, and keeps her pressed against the wall for a moment before he carries her towards the bed.

He sets her down slowly, carefully, on the mattress.

She moves backwards, her eyes wide, a smile on her face, as he moves on to the bed.

Pat leans down over Tiffany, a smile on his face, love in his eyes.

"Tiff..." he whispers, sweetly, soothingly.

"Pat." she smiles, placing a soft hand against his cheek. "I love you."

His smile widens. "I love you."

He reaches for her shirt, she assists him in removing it slowly from her body.

She pulls him down on top of her, her hands running up his back, through his hair to his cheeks and then his chest, she kisses him again.

"Always, Pat." she whispers, in his ear.

"Always." he promises.

Because he knows, with certainty, that he could never and would never break that promise.

He will always love her, always be hers, and he knows by the look in her eyes that she will always be his.

* * *

**A/N: I apologise for the late update and for any spelling errors.  
Thank you to everyone who reads my story, reviews it, favourites or follows.**

**I hope you enjoy.**

**X**


	11. Silver strong

**Disclaimer: Silver Linings Playbook is copyright to Matthew Quick and David O Russel. All Rights Reserved. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made. I claim and own nothing**

* * *

Tiffany wakes to a darkly lit room.

No sunlight shines through, she hears the sound of rain still falling heavily outside, but otherwise all is silent.

Everything is silent in the room.

She wakes feeling warm, covered by a soft blue blanket, feeling his hands wrapped around her body, holding her tightly.

She wakes in his arms, their bodies pressed together, her back against his bare chest, her hands intertwined with his.

A smile forms on her face before her eyes open.

"Morning," Pat whispers softly in her ear.

She opens her eyes now.

She lifts her head up slightly, so that she may look at him, so she may see his face.

Her smile widens. "Morning," she responds.

She finds him watching her, his eyes wide and awake, a wide smile resting on his face.

He pulls her closer, pressing a kiss to her cheek as she does.

"How are you feeling?" he asks.

She breaks out of his embrace and turns towards him, gently placing her hand to his cheek as she does.

She presses a kiss to his lips.

"Mm.." Pat smiles, after the kiss is broken. "That good?" he asks.

"Even better." she smiles, and she's almost glowing.

"Yeah?" he smiles.

A flicker of worry moves over his face and she understands this without asking him, without requiring a verbal explanation.

Pat is worried that he hurt her, worried that they may have rushed this.

But it feels so good to him, it feels so right, that he doesn't want to feel the worry.

He only wants to feel the happiness.

"I feel great," she promises.

He reaches for a strand of her hair, a soft brown curl, and pushes it off of her face.

"Pat. I promise." she smiles.

His smile remains. "Me too. I mean, I just – I feel amazing, Tiff. I do. I don't think – I mean, I really, really don't want to jinx this. I don't want to fuck this up. I don't. And I don't want you to think this is too much pressure, because it's not, but I have never felt this happy. I haven't. I swear, with you it's different, it's beautiful. You're beautiful. And we – we just connect ,Tiffany. It's just fucking unreal how much we connect. You get me, I get you. It's like, our crazy lined up and just fucking evened out. And it's great. It's perfect. And it's just. I can't- I don't even think I can explain it."

"We deserve this, Pat." she whispers softly, soothingly.

"I know that. Do you know that?" he asks.

She nods, still smiling widely.

"You do?" he repeats.

She presses another kiss to his lips. "Does this give you your answer?" she asks, briefly breaking the embrace.

Pat hesitates. "Oh, I don't know, Tiff. You might have to repeat that answer."

"Mm?" she responds, gently settling her hand against his chest.

She begins to trace soft patterns on his skin.

"Yeah. I mean, if you want. Sure." he smiles.

She gentle kiss to the deep, dark bruise on Pat's chest, the bruise that she had been gingerly and carefully tracing an invisible pattern on.

"Pat..." she whispers.

"Yeah?" he replies gently.

"I think we should have a shower." she announces, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before removing herself from his warm, tender embrace.

He doesn't follow.

"Ah, okay. Sure." he smiles, but she can see the disappoint lingering in his eyes. "Have a nice shower. I'll be here when you're out."

She understands the expression that next flickers across his features; the worry returns, his worry that he hurt her and pushed her into this.

"Pat." Tiffany starts, as she slides out of the bed.

He turns towards her, his eyes flickering over her, and all of her beauty.

Tiffany walks towards the door, speaking only as she enters the bathroom.

"I said we." she calls out.

Only a moment passes before Pat tries to get out of bed as quickly as he can.

He struggles, his foot gets caught in the bed sheets, before he rips them off the bed entirely and moves quickly to the shower, where he will bask in the warmth and light of his love.

The power comes back just after their shower.

Pat wraps a towel around his waist, insists Tiffany gets dressed, and enters the kitchen where he soon starts to cook breakfast.

He makes them both pancakes, with maple syrup on top, and pours orange juice into two glasses.

Pat enters her bedroom, tells her breakfast is served, before he dresses into his own clothes.

They eat breakfast quickly, both more than eager to start training and dancing again.

Pat wasn't sure how he felt about the dancing, about whether it would take his mind off of whoever did this to him, whoever beat him and left him to die, he didn't believe it could take his mind off of what they did to her, but then he sees Tiffany and she takes his mind off of it, and he can't deny that he enjoyed every moment that they spent together, dancing, running, training.

They start off slow.

Small stretches.

Pat stops several times, Tiffany doesn't force him to continue, she says that they can call it a day but then Pat gets angry, he gets frustrated with his injuries, so he yells at Tiffany and she shouts and curses back, then they're both cursing.

Minutes later, they forget about it all and continue with the light, small stretches.

But Pat can't seem to focus as well as he did before.

"What?" Tiffany frowns, after noticing Pat's eyes lingering on her mid stretch. "Why aren't you stretching, Pat? Why? You're just standing still?"

Pat sighs. "I am. I am stretching."

"Bullshit! You are not stretching. You're just standing there." she snaps back.

"Are you hurt?" she asks quickly, regretfully almost like she regrets snapping, with a softer, calmer voice.

"No, I just. Fuck, Tiffany. Did you have to wear that top?" he asks.

Her frown deepens. "Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot you were a fucking fashion critic or something."

"No. No. That's not it. That's not it at all. Nope. It's something else. Your top, it's great. Great color. It looks great on you, but that's the think. It looks fucking amazing on you. You look beautiful, okay? You always do. But that's the problem. It's fleshy." Pat answers.

"It's fleshy?" she frowns. "I wore this when we trained before." she replies.

"I know but I can't stop staring. Can you, like, put some more fucking clothes on or something?" Pat asks.

Tiffany groans. "Fine, give me your hood."

A minute later, Tiffany is stretching in Pat's gray hoodie, he is stretching in his tight green shirt.

And now Tiffany can't help but admire how tightly the shirt is sticking to his body.

"Fuck, Pat." she sighs in annoyance.

"What?" he frowns.

"Now, I can't stop staring at your chest." she sighs with annoyance.

"My chest? MY chest? What? I'm not – I'm not fleshly like you." he answers quickly.

"I'm not fucking fleshly, Pat. It was a t-shirt." she responds.

"No. It was more like a bra. Or a crop top – am I using that right? Crop top? Is that right? I don't know if that's the right word. I don't." Pat answers, quickly, "Besides, it's not like I'm showing any skin or any fucking thing like you. How can you expect me to concentrate when you're dressed like that?" he gestures towards her.

She scoffs loudly.

"Fine, Pat!" Tiffany throws her hands up in the air. "If it makes you happy I'll wear a fucking potato sack during routines."

"That's not a good idea." Pat shakes his head. "No, why would you do that? Why would you say that? It's not a good idea. It's not. For one, You wouldn't be able to move properly. And also I think it would be itchy. It would be itchy, wouldn't it? It would. It wouldn't be comfortable."

"I don't fucking know if it'd be itchy or not, Pat." she snaps back loudly. "Are we dancing or not?"

"Hey." he answers loudly, "You're the one who stopped."

Her mouth hangs.

"You stopped in the first place!" she exclaims.

"Hey, hey. I had good reason to. Okay?" he replies.

Seconds later, they're kissing, Pat has Tiffany pressed up against the wall, her hands are draped around his neck, his hands are settled on her waist.

As she begins to press soft kisses to his neck, he releases a small sigh and speaks.

"Sadly, I don't think this is what Cliff meant when he said to exercise. It's distracting. I need to stretch. I need to keep my mind off of things." he says.

"Mhm." she murmurs.

"Tiff," he sighs. "Come on. I need to do this, okay? Don't get me wrong. You're amazing. I want you. But I need this right now. I need to dance. Otherwise, I think of how fucking angry they make me and I want to fucking lose it. And I don't want that, Tiff. I don't want to lose it. I hate that guy. I hate that side of me. Okay? I hate that part of myself and I'm trying to change and be better, and to control myself, and I can't do that unless I take my mind off of this and while, this is great. I mean, I can't wait to do this again, but I want to dance with you, Tiff. I want to dance."

She slips out of his arms, ducking beneath them, before she calls out.

"Let's dance."

The day goes quickly.

They spend it dancing together, taking it slowly, building up to the bigger moves, and stretching frequently.

When night falls, and Tiffany showers, Pat slips out and returns home. He picks up a bag of clean clothes, kisses his parents goodbye, promises them that he and Tiffany will be over for dinner the next night and returns to Tiffany's unnoticed.

She dresses while he washes.

When he steps out of the shower, towel wrapped around his waist, he finds her in her bedroom, dressed in tight black jeans and a long sleeve, lace, navy blue shirt. Her brown curls are out by her side, a black necklace hangs around her neck.

She turns towards him slowly, her eyes slowly, intentionally, and obviously flickering over the painful markings and bruises that are scattered over his body.

She clearly remembers kissing every bruise, every marking, and every scar the previous night, in the hopes she might heal them.

He did the same to her bruises and her scars.

He smiles.

His eyes appear to almost be lit up.

"You look beautiful." he says, "Come here." he whispers, placing a gentle hand on either side of her stomach.

He guides her towards him, presses her hands against his bare chest and sets his arms around her lower waist.

"You want to know what I'm thinking? What I keep thinking?" he asks.

She nods.

"I keep thinking how lucky I am. I don't believe it. I can't. I mean, you are everything I wanted, you're fucking wonderful, Tiffany, I am so lucky. I just keep fearing that I'm going to wake up and it's going to be a dream, or I'm going to fuck it up and lose you." Pat says, softly, as he lifts a hand from her waist and removes a strand of hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear.

She places her palms down on his skin, flat against his bare and slightly wet chest.

"Luckily, neither of those things will happen," she smiles. "Now. As irresistibly charming and sexy as you are right now, you need to get dressed. We can pick this up later tonight, if you like?"

"Maybe." Pat shrugs, jokingly.

"Or not." Tiffany quickly jumps to the defense.

"Hey, you know I'm kidding." he grins.

"Mm. Get dressed." she instructs, before she slips out of his arms.

* * *

Ronnie opens the front door of his house dressed in a black tux, readjusting his bow tie.

"Whoa." Pat exclaims.

"Really?" Ronnie smiles. "I look okay?"

"You do. You look fucking great, Ronnie, but I'm in a jersey. What the fuck, Tiffany? You said Veronica-" Pat replies.

"Veronica said you could wear a jersey. She said you could wear it." Tiffany sharply responds.

"What the fuck, Ronnie?" Pat frowns.

"You look great, Pat. The jersey looks great." Ronnie assures him.

Pat's frown deepens.

"Yeah but, I mean, you're wearing a fucking tuxedo." Pat snaps.

"Yeah. It's our anniversary." Ronnie replies, frowning slightly. "What, Veronica didn't tell you?"

"No. She invited us over for dinner." Tiffany slowly says.

Ronnie nods quickly. "Yeah. Yeah. Dinner is still on."

"I am so fucking confused right now." Pat answers loudly.

"Tiffany, Pat!" Veronica exclaims from the doorway, smiling warmly. "You two look great. Nice jersey, Pat."

Pat's frown deepens. "What the fuck? Nice jersey?" he mutters, shooting Tiffany a look which conveys how deeply and utterly confused he is.

"Oh, yeah. Did I forget to mention that it's our anniversary?" Tiffany smiles. "Dinner's in the oven. Lasagne – home made, I cooked it myself for you. Desert is in the fridge. Your favorite, Tiff. Emily is in her crib, I just bathed her. Her dinner and milk bottle is labeled. In big, thick, capital letters so you know-"

"I'm not stupid, Veronica, I know how to read." Pat says quickly.

"I didn't think that, Pat. I didn't say that either. I was just letting you two know." Veronica quickly replies.

"Wait – You're leaving us to babysit?" Tiffany frowns.

"Yeah," Ronnie smiles, glancing to Veronica.

"I mean. Yes, sure, I'm anxious about leaving her but Ronnie was right." Veronica admits.

"Like usual." he smirks.

"Rarely." Pat chimes in.

This causes Veronica's smile to widen.

"Yes. He was right this time which is rare, Pat. We need a night out, together. Especially considering it's our anniversary."

"Whoa. I didn't- This wasn't-" Tiffany starts.

"We'd be more than happy to do it." Pat smiles.

He adores baby Emily.

Tiffany loves her just as much but she's never looked after Emily alone, she's only held her a few times, she just doesn't feel comfortable around babies.

"We would?" Tiffany shoots Pat a glare.

He doesn't take much notice of it.

"Sure. We'd love to. You two kids have a great night." Pat smiles.

He's just honored that Ronnie and Veronica trust them enough to do this, it means a lot to him to do this, and so he is more than happy to do it.

"I have my phone – Call me, if you need anything. Just call, okay?" Veronica says, as Ronnie begins to guide her out of the door.

"We will." Pat smiles.

Tiffany shoots Pat another look, which he reads clearly this time.

"Emily's a sweet heart. Beside, she's your niece. I thought you'd want to do this, Aunty Tiffany." he grins.

She frowns. "Don't call me your Aunty, Pat, that sounds weird." she snaps back quickly, before she steps inside.

Pat shuts the front door behind her and follows Tiffany upstairs.

She leads the way into Emily's bedroom and find that she is resting in her crib, eyes wide open, holding onto a small plush teddy bear.

"Hi, Emily." Pat says, instantly speaking in a lower, softer voice.

A voice which Tiffany instantly silently names as his 'baby' voice.

"Are you hungry? Are you hungry, sweetie?" Pat asks.

"She's not going to answer you. She can't talk yet, Pat." Tiffany mutters.

"Is Aunty Tiffany angry? Is she angry, Emily? I think she is. I think she is." he leans over the crib.

"Come here," Pat says, as leans down into the crib.

He slides his arms underneath Emily and gently, and carefully, picks her up and positions her into his arms so that he is holding her, rocking her slightly and carefully.

"Is Aunty Tiffany angry?" Pat repeats.

"Fuck, Pat." Tiffany sighs.

Pat gasps loudly, places a hand over Emily's right ear and holds her against his chest.

"Hey!" he says, angrily. "Do not say F-U-C-K," he spells it out. "In front of the baby. No swearing, Tiffany."

She sighs. "Are you f-" she begins.

"Tiffany." he says sternly.

Her lips part, like she might speak again, but he talks over her.

"Tiffany." he repeats.

She sighs and crosses her arms. "Fine."

"Fine?" he checks.

"Yes." she answers.

"Good." he manages a small smile.

He lowers his hand from Emily's ear and repositions her so that she's resting against his shoulder.

"She's so tiny." he smiles.

Tiffany manages a small smile. "She is."

"And beautiful." Pat says.

"Like her sister." Tiffany smiles.

Then, she frowns.

"Wait. Are you calling my sister beautiful?" her frown deepens.

"No, I'm calling her and Ronnie's daughter beautiful. I mean, sure. Yes. Your sister is beautiful, I'm not going to deny that, but I'm not attracted to her. I never have been. I've never felt anything for her. But you, I'm attracted to you. I like you. I think you're beautiful. Please, Tiffany, don't trap me into that answer where I'm bound to get into S-H-I-T for speaking the truth."

"I'm not trapping you, Pat. I was just asking for fu-" she begins but stops.

"I was just asking." she sighs.

Pat smiles. "You want to go to Aunt Tiffany?" Pat asks.

"Pat." Tiffany sighs.

He holds baby Emily out to Tiffany, who hesitates for a moment before taking the baby from Pat, placing her gently in her arms, and holding her in the same position which Pat had been holding Emily seconds earlier.

"I don't really know what I'm supposed to do, Pat." Tiffany admits, glancing up at him as he moves towards the door.

"Pat. Pat where are you going?" she asks, her voice unintentionally lifting.

Pat turns back. "To get Emily's dinner ready."

"What?" she frowns.

"You'll be fine, Tiffany. She's a baby." Pat insists. "Play with her. Talk to her. She's your niece."

"I know, Pat. I just – I've never been alone with her before, okay? I don't think Veronica trusted me to look after her before." Tiffany admits.

Pat shakes his head once. "You'll be fine. I'll be back."

"Pat." she calls after him, as he disappears from the room.

"What?" he calls back.

"The baby is crying, you should come back." Tiffany says.

"No, she's not." Pat quickly responds.

Tiffany releases a small sigh. "No. Not verbally." she says finally. "I don't think I can do this, Pat. I'm not good with it. I'm not good at this."

"Okay, firstly, Emily isn't an 'it', she's a baby, she's your niece, and she's fine. You're fine too, Tiffany. Just relax." Pat says, loudly but reassuringly from the kitchen.

Tiffany turns her complete attention back to little baby Emily, resting in her arms, watching her with wide green eyes, never looking away.

"So, you're kind of full on, aren't you?" Tiffany asks, managing a small smile.

She cannot deny that she is nervous about this, about being around a baby, about her this baby, but above all she cannot deny the pain that returns at thoughts of old conversations past with Tommy, about children.

"I don't know why I asked you that. You can't answer. Yet." Tiffany mutters.

She casts her eyes quickly over the room. "You've got a nice room. I helped your mommy decorate it. She wouldn't let me pick out the colors but she let me help out.." she murmurs, as she begins to softly sway the baby in her arms.

"She's always been a bit picky..Especially when it comes to you. She's going to be very fussy over you, so you better learn that now. Fussiness can sometimes lead to her being overprotective but she's going to be a great mom, she is already, and..I mean, she loves you a lot. And Ronnie, your dad, he's great. You hit the jackpot with parents, kid." she whispers soothingly, softly and gently.

"And...I'm your Aunt, I guess. Aunty Tiffany. I mean, you should probably know now that I'm not good with kids. But with you, it'll be different I guess, because you're family it might be different. Some kids, they can be brats. Real bratty, I'll tell you that. I'm not good with kids. But Pat, he's good. He's patient too, unlike me. I don't know what you'll call him. Patty, maybe? Or Uncle Pat? I don't know. I just hope you're one of the good ones."

"You're quiet but fidgety, aren't you? Like a little frog." Tiffany smiles, as she readjusts Emily.

She begins to cry.

"Oh, no, no. Don't cry." Tiffany says soothingly, as she begins to rock her more gently.

"Shhh..." she whispers quietly. "It's okay. You're okay. I wasn't putting you down, I was just moving you. It's okay."

Just as Tiffany soothes Emily down, stops her from crying, and places her back into the position she first rested in, she hears a voice at the door.

"Hey." Pat says softly.

Tiffany turns around slowly.

She sets her eyes down upon Pat, who rests against the doorway with a big smile on his face.

"What?" Tiffany asks.

"What? Nothing. Nothing. I just said hi." he responds.

She seems suspicious.

"You're smiling. A lot." she says.

"What? I'm happy! Aren't I allowed to smile?" he answers quickly.

"Of course you're allowed to smile, Pat, don't ask a question as stupid as that. You make me feel like a B-I-T-C-H when you ask if you're allowed to smile." Tiffany snaps back.

"You're not. You're not, okay?" he says, his smile still remains. "How's she doing?"

"Hungry, I think." Tiffany says.

She observes as Emily yawns.

"Aw. I think she's tired too." Pat says.

Tiffany steps towards Pat, glancing briefly down at baby Emily.

"Wait – You don't want to feed her?" Pat asks, watching Tiffany closely.

"I would but I really have to go to the bathroom." Tiffany responds.

Pat nods and steps closer to Tiffany.

"Here we go," he murmurs gently, before he slides his hands slowly under Emily, supporting her as he carries her towards him and into his arms.

"Enjoy dinner." Tiffany smiles.

Pat smiles back before he returns his full attention to Emily.

"Are you hungry?" he asks, "Are you? I think you are. Why don't we get you something to eat?"

Once Tiffany is inside the bathroom, with the door shut and locked, she leans against the bathroom door and exhales loudly.

She breathes in sharply, closes her eyes, and tries to distract herself from past pain, old memories, and future problems.

She moves towards the sink, turns the cold water on the tap on before she runs her hands underneath the cold water, then she cups her hands together and splashes small amounts of water against her face.

When she returns, Pat has almost finished feeding baby Emily.

Tiffany checks on dinner, finds that it is cooked, and so pulls the tray of lasagne out of the oven with two thick oven mitts. She sets the tray down on a cooling rack, pulls out two white plates and two sets of cutlery, before she cuts two servings of lasagne and plates them up.

She leaves what remains of the lasagne to cool down on the bench.

She pulls out two bottles of beer from the fridge and carries them towards the dining table. She places the bottles down on coasters before returning for the plates and cutlery, she places them down side by side and waits for Pat.

He finishes up with Emily and, after giving her a bottle, places her down in her cot.

He returns to Tiffany smiling.

They talk between mouthfuls of lasagne and sips of beer.

Conversation is light, they joke and laugh a lot.

Then, Pat asks the question which had been floating around his mind for quite some time.

"So, do you want any?" he asks.

Tiffany glances up, a mouthful in her mouth, she frowns slightly and continues to chew and swallows the mouthful before she speaks.

"What, more dinner?" she frowns, unsure of what it is he's asking.

"No." Pat smirks. "I meant children. Babies. Do you want any?" he asks.

She places her knife and fork down on the side of her plate.

"Do I want children?" she asks.

"Yeah." Pat nods, still smiling slightly.

"Uh, no, Pat. I don't think so. I don't." she answers, before swallowing a large mouthful of beer.

His smile falters. "Ever?" he asks.

She nods. "Yeah. Ever."

His smile vanishes. "Tiff, you can't mean that-" he starts.

"Pat, I thought we talked about this?" she frowns. "I told you, I can't even take care of myself, let alone a kid."

"Yeah, but I mean, you were great in there." he counters.

Tiffany sighs. "I was rocking her in my arms, Pat, and talking to her. That isn't anything great. It was what Aunt's do. You know what parents do? They feed their children, bathe them, educate them, wash their clothes – it's more than talking to them and rocking them to sleep."

"Tiff..." Pat sighs.

"I know that it would be difficult but it would be so great, wouldn't it?" he beams.

Emily starts to cry from the bedroom.

Tiffany meets his gaze slowly. "You should go check on her." she says.

Pat doesn't move.

"Pat." Tiffany says.

He stands from the table, releases a small sigh, before he heads towards Emily's room.

When Pat leaves the room, Tiffany stands and carries her plate towards the kitchen, scraping what little remained on it in the bit. She finishes her beer bottle and places that in the bin.

As she returns into the dining room she finds Pat entering it.

"I gotta finish up. Will you sit in there with her?" Pat asks.

Tiffany nods once. "Okay." she answers, and that's all she says.

Pat finishes up dinner quickly, rinses the dishes and leaves them to dry before he enters the living room and switches on the television. He turns the volume down, so that it will not disturb Emily, and leans back against the couch.

Pat decides that he will watch the game and give Tiffany and Emily some time to bond.

And this is what happens.

The only way that Tiffany can, at first, stop Emily from crying is by picking her up.

This soothes her but as soon as Tiffany places Emily down into her cot, she starts to cry again.

And as much as she wants to call out to Pat, she doesn't.

Instead, she picks her up again and with Emily safe in her arms, Tiffany steps towards the rocking chair in the corner of the room. She eases down into, places the blanket over her legs before she settles Emily against her chest.

At first, Tiffany is awkward.

She doesn't quite know what to say or what to do.

And then the awkward feeling begins to fade away, she feels more at ease with Emily, more comfortable with her.

And then eventually it feels normal, it feels right, it feels good.

When Pat enters Emily's bedroom, an hour after he'd asked Tiffany to check in on Emily, he finds Tiffany with her eyes closed, in the rocking chair, with a sleeping baby Emily in her arms.

Pat smiles at this sight.

It gives him hope, despite Tiffany's earlier words about not wanting children.

He taps Tiffany gently on the shoulder.

Her eyes flicker before opening quickly.

"Hey, sleepy head." he smiles.

She shoots him a look. "I had to change her diaper. You owe me." she snaps.

Pat's grin widens. "Here. Why don't I put her in bed?"

Tiffany nods, her eyes fluttering over the room.

"What time is it?" she whispers.

"Nine thirty. Veronica and Ronnie just pulled in. They just got home, now." Pat whispers.

He gently picks baby Emily up and places her slowly and carefully in the cot, he doesn't disturb her as he places her down and pulls the blankets slowly up over her.

Tiffany leaves the room first.

Pat follows shortly after, turning off the lights behind him.

He follows Tiffany's footsteps to meet a relaxed, happy looking Veronica and Ronnie, moving up the staircase.

"Hey, guys." Ronnie smiles.

"Hey." Pat smiles back. "How was your night? Was it great? How was the food? The food here was great. Thanks."

"How was yours?" Veronica asks. "How's Emily? Was she good?"

"She was perfect. Wasn't she, Tiff?" Pat smiles, turning to Tiffany.

She forces a smile. "Yes, she was." she answers honestly. "Pat thinks she's beautiful like her mother."

"What?" Pat frowns. "What the fuck, Tiffany? What are you doing?"

"She is beautiful like her mother," Ronnie beams. "My girl's a good one." he smiles.

And then he corrects himself. "My girls are both good ones."

"So, it was good?" Veronica smiles.

"Yeah. It was good. Emily was great. Oh, and Pat thinks you're beautiful." Tiffany says.

Pat frowns and sighs. "Tiffany. Come on. Look, that's not what I meant. That isn't what I meant. I don't know why you're doing this."

"What, you don't think my wife is beautiful?" Ronnie frowns.

Veronica crosses her arms around herself and eyes Pat carefully.

"That's not what I said." Pat shakes his head.

"You said Veronica was beautiful." Tiffany cuts in.

Pat groans. "Tiffany, come on." he sighs.

"You don't think she's beautiful?" Ronnie repeats, still frowning.

"Fuck. Guys. Don't you think this is a pretty fucking awkward situation?" Pat asks.

"You weren't swearing like that in front of the baby, were you?" Veronica's eyes narrow.

"No. No. I wasn't. I wasn't. But, er, Tiffany dropped the F bomb." Pat announces.

Tiffany slaps Pat, somewhat playfully, on the arm. "Pat."

"Tiffany." Veronica sighs. "I thought we talked about that."

"She doesn't understand." Tiffany loudly sighs.

"So, what – First, Pat's saying my wife isn't beautiful. And now, Tiffany is saying my baby girl isn't smart enough to understand?" Ronnie asks.

Pat bursts out into laughter due to what an uncomfortable situation it has so quickly become.

"Fuck. Okay. Look, Veronica – yes, you are beautiful. Very beautiful. Like your sister. I'm attracted to your sister. Am I attracted to you? No. Have I ever had feelings for you? Nope. Never ever. And no, Tiffany, you're wrong because babies do understand. They are smart. They pick up words. Okay?" Pat answers, loudly.

"Can we just forget this, alright?" Pat asks.

Veronica nods. "I'll go check in on her quickly." Veronica smiles. "Wish her goodnight."

"How was dinner?" Ronnie asks, glancing briefly between Tiffany and Pat.

He catches a tension between them, feels it radiating, but says nothing.

"Great. It was great. It was delicious." Pat nods enthusiastically.

"It was good." Tiffany agrees.

"And desert?" Ronnie asks, sliding his jacket off.

"We weren't that hungry." Pat answers.

"She's sleeping like an angel." Veronica smiles, upon her return. "You guys did great."

"What, compared to the image I'm sure you concocted in your head?" Tiffany asks, turning towards Veronica.

Veronica's smile falters. "That's not what I meant, Tiffany."

"Yeah. Well. Thanks for dinner, it was great." Tiffany says, quickly, as she reaches for her coat placed across one of the chairs.

"Whoa, Tiffany, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you." Veronica quickly apologies, stepping towards her sister.

Pat watches as Tiffany takes a step away from her.

"I know. But I'm really tired. I just want to go home, okay?" she answers.

Veronica nods, her smile returns. "Okay. Thank you, again. I hope you liked dinner."

"Dinner was great, Veronica. It was lovely." Pat assures her.

Veronica sighs. "Thanks, Pat. Good night."

Tiffany begins moving down the stairs. "Night." she calls back.

"She okay?" Ronnie asks, as Pat quickly slides on his jacket in an effort to speed up with Tiffany, who has already left through the front door.

"Yeah. Yeah. I'll explain later. Night." Pat says, quickly, before he moves down the stairs.

He finds Tiffany outside, waiting for him by the stairs.

"Whoa, Tiff, what's going on?" Pat frowns.

"Nothing, Pat. Nothing is going on. I just want to go." she answers quickly.

"Okay." he nods. "Okay. Let's go."

They walk in silence for a few moments, but Pat eventually breaks the silence because he usually does.

"You didn't really mean what you said in there before, did you?" Pat asks.

She frowns. "About what, Pat?" she asks, sounding tired.

"Not having kids." he says.

She appears to become uncomfortable.

"Pat, I don't want to talk about this." she says.

"Well, I'm sorry but we have to. We're in a relationship, aren't we? I mean, that's what this is, isn't it? I don't want to put a label on it, and I don't want to make you put a label on it, but there's something here. We have to talk about these things. We'll have to eventually." Pat says.

"So, why can't we wait until eventually?" she sighs, stopping abruptly.

"Because I'm just asking, Tiff. I just want to know. I'm not saying let's start having kids now, or even in a years time, I just want to know." Pat admits. "I just want to know where you stand, if there's ever going to be a possibility-"

"There's not, Pat." Tiffany sadly says.

Pat's expression becomes a more sadder, defeated expression.

"You can't know that," he tries to fight it. "You can't possibly know that. You don't know what you want in the future. You can't know that. How can you say that? How can you say that?"

"I don't want children, Pat. I never have." Tiffany sighs. "I'm not a good person, Pat. I'm a shitty sister. A bad girlfriend. I'm going to be a terrible mother. I know it. And, honestly, I can't take care of someone else. I'm not good at it."

"Don't doubt yourself, Tiff. Don't. Okay? You're wrong. You're so wrong. You can take care of other people. You take care of me." Pat counters.

She sighs.

"I'm not going to change my mind, Pat. I'm sorry." she answers softly. "I hope this doesn't change anything between us because I love you, I love where things are right now, and I'm happy. You said it yourself, you're happy."

Pat lifts his hand to his forehead and rubs it anxiously.

"I don't want it to, Tiff. I don't. I don't want it to change anything either, because you know I love you. But you know what I want. I want kids, one day. I do." Pat answers.

"What are you saying, Pat?" she draws in a sharp, painful breath of air.

He groans loudly and shifts in his stance.

Then he sighs and shifts again.

"Nothing, Tiff. I'm not saying anything, okay? I love you. I want to be with you always, and if I have it my way we'll get forever. It's just...I'm sorry. I need tonight." Pat says lowly, his eyes briefly flickering away.

"What?" she frowns.

"I need to be alone, tonight." he responds.

"Why? Because I don't want kids, you need a night away?" she snaps back.

"Look, fuck - I don't know? Okay? I need time to, okay?" he snaps.

She stares at him with dark eyes.

"Away from me?" she asks.

"I just need time to think." he answers. "About this."

"Okay," she sighs, not snapping, not yelling.

She understands.

"I'm sorry, Pat." Tiffany whispers softly.

She leans towards Pat and presses a soft kiss to his cheek.

"Good night." she says, her eyes flickering quickly over him.

She finds that he is still, his face empty and his eyes defeated.

"Night." he murmurs.

And as Tiffany walks away from Pat she feels terrible, she feels a guilt weighing down upon her, but above everything she feels alone.

* * *

**A/N: Hi, all. Firstly, I want to thank everyone who takes the time to read my story, place it as a favourite or follow, and review it. It means a lot to me, so thank you. I apologise for the late update, and for any spelling errors I missed, and I hope you enjoy it.**

**Guest review:  
****Guest 6/13/13 . chapter 10:  
**Hello, guest :) I'm really happy that you love my story so much, and reading that you think I'm talented as a writer is very flattering so thank you. I hope you enjoy this new chapter. Thank you for your suggestion, but I just thought I'd let you know that before I started writing this story I research extensively into Bi-Polar Disorder, you are right when you say it is a complex disease and I will attempting to dig deeper into how it effects Pat beside the anger and this is going to start coming up in the next chapter. I just wanted to build up to it first, but thank you for your suggestion. And thanks for reading. x

**Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy.**

**X**


	12. Silver weak

**Disclaimer: Silver Linings Playbook is copyright to Matthew Quick and David O Russel. All Rights Reserved. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made. I claim and own nothing.**

* * *

Pat rests in his bed with his hands underneath his head, his eyes tightly shut, focusing on the many thoughts which swirl throughout his head. His bed feels so obviously empty without her.

He thinks of her, as he always does.

But these thoughts are different.

He thinks of all they could have had together, and all that they won't have.

But mostly he thinks of how, despite all of this, he wants her always, he will always want her, and nothing could or would ever change how he feels.

Pat believes that Tiffany has given him time, that she has left him for the night, given him time to think.

But she hasn't.

It starts with a low thumping sound that Pat only just manages to hear.

He keeps his eyes shut, ignoring it.

But then it comes again.

His eyes open slowly, he switches on the lamp by his bedside and looks towards the window at the front of the house – the window which is getting hit by small pebbles.

And he knows it's Tiffany.

But for some reason, Pat doesn't move.

He doesn't want to talk to her about this right now, because despite that he loves her and will always choose her even if that means choosing her over having children than he will, he still needs time.

She throws another rock.

Pat doesn't move.

"I know you're there!" she shouts out. "You turned your lamp on!"

Pat sinks down into the mattress, like she might be able to see him.

"Pat!" she calls out, throwing another pebble.

And then, the pebbles stop and silence follows.

Pat sighs and opens his eyes, just in time to see the next rock coming towards him.

In frustration, Tiffany picks up a large, heavy rock and pelts it at the window.

It comes hurling in through the window, loudly shattering the glass and waking all in the house.

Pat is out of his bed and at the window in seconds.

"What the fuck, Tiffany?!" Pat shouts, looking down at her.

"Ha!" she exclaims loudly, pointing at him. "I knew it! I knew you were fucking awake!" she shouts.

"What the fuck are you doing, throwing boulders at my fucking window?" he shouts back angrily. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Patty. Patty, what's going on?" Dolores calls out, over the madness.

"Did you throw another book out of the window?" Pat Sr. groans loudly.

"It wasn't a book, Pop." Pat shouts back.

"It wasn't a boulder, Pat. Trust me, you'd know if it was a fucking boulder. Ha. A boulder. That's a bit of a fucking exaggeration." she shouts.

"A bit of an exaggeration?" Pat loudly counters. "That could have hit me!" he exclaims.

"Who are you talking to?" Pat Sr. shouts.

"Tiffany." Pat replies.

"Tiffany?" Dolores shouts.

"I fucking knew you were in there, "Tiffany angrily says, "Why are you hiding from me?"

"I'm not hiding," Pat groans. "This is my home!"

Pat turns towards his bedroom door as it opens.

Pat Sr. enters first, turning the light on as he does, and he is followed closely by Dolores.

"Why the fuck are you throwing books for?" Pat Sr. accusingly and angrily asks. "I thought we were past this, Pat."

"I'm not. I'm not fucking throwing anything," Pat snaps back. "Tiffany fucking lodged a boulder-"

"It's not a fucking boulder Pat!" Tiffany shouts out.

"Tiffany?" Dolores frowns.

She steps towards the window and peers through it.

"Hi, Dolores." Tiffany says.

Dolores frowns slightly. "Sweetie, what are you doing out in the cold?"

"Why is she throwing rocks at your window?" Pat Sr. asks.

"I don't fucking know, Pop." Pat shouts.

Pat Sr. joins Dolores at the window.

"He's ignoring me." Tiffany loudly chimes in.

"You're ignoring her?" Pat Sr. turns quickly to Pat.

"Why won't you see Tiffany?" Dolores frowns.

"Fuck, I-" Pat starts.

"Yeah, Pat. Why won't you see me?" Tiffany loudly calls out.

"Alright, alright!" Pat Sr. exclaims loudly. "Tiffany, come on inside. Pat, clean up this fucking mess. Then, sort out your shit, let us go back to sleep. It's two in the fucking morning."

"I'm not doing that. I'm not cleaning it up. And I don't want her to come in right now. I don't want to talk about this right now." Pat says loudly.

"Patty, what's going on?" Dolores frowns.

"Nothing. Nothing is going on." Pat shakes his head.

"I'm letting Tiffany in." Pat Sr. announces. "And you're cleaning this mess up, Pat."

After letting Tiffany in downstairs, and making her a cup of tea, Dolores leaves her in the living room, on the couch, and returns upstairs so that she may rest.

Once Pat has finished cleaning up the glass in his room, he moves downstairs, carrying the shards of glass which have been wrapped in newspaper.

He enters the kitchen, places the folded up newspaper in the bin, and glances up to find Tiffany sitting in the room in front of the bench, the room in which they cuddled in, in the exact chair that they shared their second kiss in

Pat watches her closely

"I'm sorry for breaking your window..." she mutters.

He walks around, towards her.

"That's fine. It's nothing. I'll fix it tomorrow." Pat shrugs.

She sets her mug down and moves over, so that he may join her on the chair.

He joins her, slides down next to her, and pulls her feet up so that she is resting on him as she was the last time they sat here.

He sets his hand down on her waist.

"Tiff..." he starts.

"Why does life keep getting messy, for us. I mean, we keep getting hit by shit. The fighting, that dick at the bar, what happened to you – and now, arguments about _this_." she sighs.

"All the mess just makes me realize how much I love you." Pat smiles, stroking her hair gently with his other hand.

She smiles, almost with disbelief. "Really? You're sure it doesn't make you realize what a fucking horrible choice you're making with me."

"No. The opposite, actually. It makes me realize that life would be horrible without you." he smiles.

She buries her head against his chest.

They sit in darkness.

"You're too good for me." she murmurs.

He sighs.

"But I'm trying to be better." she whispers.

He manages a small smile as he pulls her closer.

"I know." he answers. "So am I."

"Hm." she releases a long sigh.

"We should promise each other something..." Tiffany whispers softly.

"Mm?" he responds, "What?"

"That when life gets messy we just have to remember why we fell in love with each other." she says.

And he can hear the fear slipping through in her voice, the fear that he'll stop loving her, that when life gets messy so will they and they won't be in love anymore.

"Tiffany Maxwell," Pat sighs.

He turns her head upwards, towards him.

"Excuse the cheesiness that is about to follow, but I could never stop forgetting why I fell in love with you." he answers.

"That's not cheesy." she mutters.

"Why?" she asks.

He frowns.

"Why did you fall in love with me?"

"You met my crazy with your own, it leveled out. I can't explain it that well. I just..I knew it the moment I met you. You were everything – I just knew." he smiles, and it is a small, vulnerable smile that tugs at Tiffany's heart strings.

"You want to know why I fell in love with you?" she asks.

He simply holds her gaze, silently telling her yes by the look in his eyes.

"It was like I knew. Now, I know you just said pretty much the same fucking thing. But I just knew. Even during the fucked up times, the crazy times, I just knew. You make me happy, Pat. You always have."

"You make me happy too." he smiles. "The happiest I have ever been in my entire life. Sure, we drive each other a little nuts but that's a good thing. It means we love each other." he says.

She sighs. "Pat?"

"Mhm?" he answers.

"When life is messy, what should you do?" she asks.

He considers her words for a brief second.

"What would I do?" he asks.

She nods once.

"I'd clean it up. I'd clean it by cleaning up my surroundings," he answers, "Why?"

"What the fuck, Pat?" she frowns. "Why would you clean it?

"You clean something if it's messy." he frowns. "You asked me what I'd do, I'm telling you – that's what I'd do, I'd clean it."

"No. You don't clean it right away. You have to make it messier." Tiffany answers.

"Now, that's just bullshit, Tiff. When life is messy you don't make it messier." Pat answers loudly.

"Yeah. You do. Because it makes you feel better, if only for a while." she answers. "And leaving it until later gives it time to sink in, because if you clean it before you truly understand it, if you get rid of it before it sinks it, then you won't really feel it."

Pat doesn't respond.

"Fine." she states, "I have an idea. Tomorrow, what are you doing?"

"I thought we could dance." he answers. "Dancing makes things clearer and cleaner for me."

"Me too." Tiffany agrees.

"So, it's decided." she sighs, as she places her hand against his chest.

"We start off by dancing, stretching, some light running. We can clean, if you really want to, and then we do my thing." she announces.

"Your thing?" he frowns. "What's your thing?"

"You'll see." she answers vaguely.

"Well, that's vague." he comments.

"You'll see soon enough." she assures him.

Pat follows Tiffany upstairs, so that they may sleep, some time later.

She finds that the window has been covered by tape.

She apologizes again, says that she was simply trying to get his attention and that if he hadn't tried to hide she wouldn't have had to resort to throwing such a large rock.

He shrugs it off and passes Tiffany a baggy shirt and black pants she can wear to be.

He slides into bed and rests on his side, facing away from her, so she may dress with privacy.

She finds it sweet that he does this, even after last night.

Last night feels like a dream to her.

A perfect dream.

She snuggles into bed beside Pat, pulling the sheets up over her body, she presses her hands softly against his back.

He doesn't turn around, simply cranes his neck to look at her.

"What's up?" he asks.

"Pat, I'm sorry. About tonight." she says.

And he understands what she means, what she's trying to say, even with words as simple and brief as those.

Pat can't deny that he wants children one day but he isn't willing to sacrifice his relationship with Tiffany for that.

"I know. And I'm sorry too." he mutters.

"Don't say sorry, Pat. You didn't do anything wrong. I did. There's nothing wrong with you. It's me." she murmurs. "I'm just sorry that I can't give you what you want. I don't think I can ever give that to you. And if you want someone else, if you want this to be it between us, I won't pretend that I'm okay with it, I won't pretend that leaving you and losing you over this won't destroy me because it will. And I don't want that to guilt you into saying. What I'm trying to say is, if you want to leave, to find someone else, you can."

"There will never be anyone else." he murmurs softly.

He turns over, taking her hands in his, he smiles.

"We have each other, that's good enough for me." he says.

She smiles self-consciously. "Really?" she lifts an eyebrow.

"Yes." he smiles, because he'd do anything for her and if she doesn't want this he won't force it upon her.

But Pat silently believes that he still has time to convince her otherwise, time to convince her that having children would be great for them, that they could buy a big house with a yard, and lots of pets, and it could be wonderful.

But for now, he'll keep his hopes and dreams silent.

"Night, Tiff." Pat presses a kiss to her forehead.

"Night." she smiles.

He smiles back briefly.

And with that, he turns away from her, turns his back on her, and shuts his eyes.

Tiffany releases a long sigh.

She feels more than guilty for this, for denying Pat of his dreams.

She considers for a moment leaving, as she turns onto her side.

Until she feels him shifting in bed, sliding his hands around her and pulling her back into his warm embrace.

And they say nothing, not a word passes their lips, as they hold each other, falling softly into a well needed rest.

* * *

Pat and Tiffany are woken early in the morning by Pat Sr., who calls out their names and shoves at their shoulders until they wake.

"Pat. Patty...Office Keogh is here to see you." Pat says.

Tiffany's eyes widen. "What the fuck?" she asks loudly.

"No, no. Nothing bad. Nothing like that. He just wants to talk about the day you were attacked." Pat Sr. says. "He's waiting downstairs."

"What? I don't-" Pat sighs. "Alright. I'm coming. I'm coming downstairs."

"How long has he fucking waited to talk to Pat?" Tiffany asks.

"Tiffany." Pat sighs.

"No. They don't care, Pat." Tiffany snaps back. "They don't care enough to ask you until now."

"Maybe if we'd pressed fucking charges against that dick when he hurt you, we wouldn't be in this situation." Pat snaps.

Tiffany presses her lips together before swallowing tightly.

Pat Sr. looks between the two briefly. "Uh, Pat. You gotta go downstairs. He's waiting."

Pat heads downstairs first, followed closely by Pat Sr. and Tiffany.

They find Dolores waiting in the dining room with Office Keogh.

"Pat," Office Keogh sighs, as he looks over Pat. "How are you doing?" he asks.

"How the fuck do you think he's doing?" Tiffany cuts in. "Look at him."

"Tiff, I got this." Pat says.

Tiffany straightens up but says nothing.

"I'm fine. I don't know – I don't know what you want to talk to me about. I mean, I talked to one of your guys at the hospital. I don't know what you want me to say." Pat states.

"If he's already talked about this once, why does he have to talk about it again?" Pat Sr. frowns slightly.

"It's routine, sir. As I was assigned to him-" Keogh starts.

"Routine?" Tiffany scoffs. "What, does routine include waiting days after it happened to actually fucking talk to him?"

"Tiff. I talked to an officer in the hospital. I talked to him. I'll tell you what I told him. What I've told fucking everybody who has asked. I was running home. Alright? I took the back way. I never take the back way. Why did I take the back way you ask? I don't fucking know. I felt like it. I felt like running. And I was looking at the trees and all that, and I heard rustling behind me. I thought, you know, it's just the fucking leaves. But it wasn't. Next thing I know, I'm getting a hit to the back of my head. I'm down. I can't see anything. I can taste the fucking blood but I can't see and I feel like, feet kicking me. And then I blacked out." Pat speaks slowly, his eyes briefly flickering towards Tiffany as he finishes speaking.

"That's all I know. I don't know who. I don't know why. I don't know what the fuck happened next and how I wound up like this. Okay?" Pat adds.

"You know who you should be looking at, you should be looking at that dick who came into the station wanting to press charges against Pat." Tiffany states loudly. "You should be talking to him. I don't know what the fuck you're doing here if your guys have already talked to him."

"Miss, we will find out who did this." Officer Keogh assures her.

Tiffany scoffs. "Sure." she answers, clear disbelief in her voice.

After scribbling down notes, and asking Pat to go into a little more detail, Officer Keogh leaves.

Dolores serves coffees, cooks up a small breakfast, and Pat Sr. sits down at the table with Tiffany on his right and Pat on his left. He goes over details of the restaurant with Pat, who tries to pay attention but finds himself gazing off at Tiffany, watching her closely, like he's determined to figure out what her expression means or what she could possibly be thinking right now.

"Tiffany, did you hear me?" Pat Sr. asks.

Tiffany is pulled from her thoughts suddenly as she finds Pat and Pat Sr. watching her expectantly, waiting for an answer.

She shakes her head slightly.

"You alright?" Pat asks, a frown creeping in on his face.

"I'm fine, Pat. I'm fine. What did you say?" she answers.

"I said, we're going down to see the diner tonight. Grand opening, but just for us. The real opening is tomorrow. It's all done so I figured, might as well show it the family, let you see the cash register so you'll know what you'll be dealing with tomorrow." Pat Sr. says.

"What?" Tiffany frowns.

"What, you don't remember?" Pat Sr. frowns. "You're sure you're okay?" How's your head? Is your head okay?" he asks.

She nods. "Yes. My head is fine." she answers quickly.

"You said you'd work register, serve tables, until I could. Because, speaking the kind words of my family, my face is fucked up and I'll scare the customers." Pat answers.

"Pat. Come on." Pat Sr. starts.

Pat sighs. "I know. I know."

"I can't work for you." Tiffany frowns.

Silence momentarily fills the room.

"You said, Tiff. You said you could." Pat says.

"Yeah, Tiffany." Pat Sr. adds.

"I don't know." she sighs. "I don't fucking know."

"Okay, okay." Pat lifts his hands in the air slightly.

He stands from his seat and moves slowly towards her as he speaks.

"I know what you're thinking. Don't freak out, Tiff. I know what you're thinking." he says.

Her frown deepens. "Oh, really?" she asks curiously.

"Yeah. I do. You're thinking you're going to give until you have nothing left, until you're empty. But you're not." Pat says softly and reassuringly.

"It's just four days this week. That's all. That's all I need." Pat Sr. promises.

"You hear that, Tiff? Only four days." Pat repeats.

"Of course, I fucking heard it, Pat. I'm right here." she snaps back.

"Come on!" Pat exclaims. "It'll be fun. It'll be good. And you saw how happy you made him, when you said yes?" Pat asks, glancing back towards Pat Sr.

"You made me happy, Tiffany. Real happy." Pat Sr. smiles.

"Way to fucking guilt me into this." she mutters under her breath. "Fine. I'll do it. But I'm not wearing a bright uniform or any shit like that. Got it?"

"I got it. I got it, Tiffany. Don't worry. It's not bright." Pat Sr. answers.

"I'll be there, Tiff. So will Ma and Pop. Jake will be in on a couple days. Ronnie's even going to pitch in. And Danny, he wants to be in everyday, working out back with Ma. He says she's a genius in the kitchen. And she is. She's great." Pat says enthusiastically.

"It'll be good, Tiffany. I promise you." Pat Sr. smiles.

A smile breaks out on Tiffany's features.

"Ah! There it is." Pat exclaims before pressing a sweet kiss to her lips.

He pulls away quickly. "See! Look, you're happy. I told you it'd be good."

"I'm not patient. I can't promise I'll be patient with customers if they're dickheads." she answers.

Pat Sr. nods.

"But you'll try your hardest. I know." Pat smiles, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "I'm telling you. This is going to be great, Tiff. It's going to be great. You're great. This is all fucking great. It's perfect. It will be perfect. You'll see."

"You're building it up pretty high." she smirks, as Pat moves towards the staircase.

"I know. It needs a big build up. It deserves one, considering how great it's going to be. You'll see." he calls out.

"What time tonight?" Tiffany asks, once Pat has disappeared upstairs.

Pat Sr. glances up at her, after looking quickly over the paperwork.

"If you could be here at 7:00 we can drive over together?" he suggests.

She nods. "Alright."

Pat Sr. looks back down to his paperwork.

"You, uh...You okay, Tiffany?" he asks casually, purposely looking down.

She sighs softly. "Yep," she answers quickly. "I'm fine."

"Something happen with you and Pat?" Pat Sr. asks. "I'm just asking because I care. Not because I'm nosy or anything like that but because I care. About you both. You're the best thing that's happened to him. I don't want him to lose that. And he seems like the best thing to happen to you in a while. That's just my observation."

"I want..." she starts but stops, biting down on her bottom lip.

"I want to be that, to be the best thing that's happened to him." she admits.

Neither she nor Pat Sr. hear Pat as he begun moving down the stairs.

He stands now at the middle of the staircase, stopping only as he catches the last thing that Tiffany says.

"But I don't think so. I don't think I am." she sighs, pushing her fringe back off of her face.

Pat watches her carefully from the staircase, not moving.

Pat Sr. puts down the pen in his hand.

"Tiffany, come on." he sighs. "Don't do this to yourself, okay? Don't put yourself down. I'll admit, I had my doubts about you at first, about whether you were good for my Pat. And you are. You always have been. I see it now. So does everyone else."

Tiffany nods and swallows tightly.

"Okay?" Pat Sr. checks.

She nods again.

Pat comes down the stairs loudly now, so it seems like he was never standing there.

"Look, uh – Tiffany. I just think we should call it a day." he announces.

Tiffany frowns. "What? What about the dancing?"

"I don't – Look, I was going to for a run. And then I was going to stop by and see Ronnie. And I just don't think that dancing is going to fit into my schedule today." Pat answers casually.

Tiffany's frown only deepens. "You're kidding, right?"

"Nope. No, I'm not." he shakes his head.

"Okay." she says finally, standing from the table. "We'll run first, and then-"

"I kinda wanted to run by myself." Pat says.

Tiffany appears somewhat hurt by this, but she quickly covers her emotions and straightens up.

She knew it was too good to be true.

"Fine. Go run by yourself. Have fun." she answers.

Pat nods curtly before he leaves through the front door. "Bye Ma, bye Pop." he shouts out.

Pat spends the day running, reading, and then running some more.

He isn't interested in eating when Dolores offers him lunch, as he claims he already ate. He doesn't want to rest either. He runs for most of the day, avoiding Tiffany's phone-calls and her house.

When night falls, he returns home in his hoodie, with his football underneath his right arm.

He finds the living room filled with Danny, Ronnie, Veronica, Tiffany, their parents, Jake, Dolores and Pat Sr.

"Pat! You're late!" Pat Sr. exclaims upon catching sight of him.

Pat casts his eyes over Tiffany quickly, who is dressed in a tight black trench-coat and black heels, and then briefly looks at his father and shrugs.

"For what?" he frowns.

"The diner, Pat." Tiffany says, slowly.

He turns back towards the ground.

"Oh!" he exclaims. "That's it. That makes sense. Because for a moment I was like "What the fuck?" Ha. Like it was something bad, or you were all meeting to talk about – Ooh. Chips." he turns towards the platter of potato chips on the table and picks up a mouthful.

"Where you been, Pat?" Jake asks.

Pat replies with a mouthful of chips. "Running. Is there beer? We got beer, right? Because I am thirsty. I am real fucking thirsty."

Pat stops as he now seems to notice Danny. "Hey, Danny. Good to see you brother! Where you been, brother? Fuck. I missed you. Come here."

"Hey, brother." Danny embraces Pat. "Good to be back. Good. Real good. This diner is going to be great, I think."

"Oh yeah, the fucking diner." Pat laughs.

"What are you doing, Pat?" Tiffany asks, arms crossed.

He frowns and turns towards her. "Talking. What else would I be doing? It's pretty simple, Tiff."

"Are you ignoring me?" Tiffany asks.

"What?" his frown remains.

"Are you ignoring me? It's pretty simple, Pat." Tiffany counters.

"Uh..." Pat groans.

"Oh my god." Tiffany sighs loudly. "What the fuck, Pat?"

"It's not ignoring. It's not. Technically, it's not. Technically, it's purposely stepping out of your way so not to bother you. Look. Can't we just go to the fucking diner and get this over with?" Pat sighs loudly.

"What's going on, Patty?" Dolores asks sweetly. "You're all sweaty and..Hyper."

Pat scratches at his forehead quickly. "Nothing, Ma. I just really want a beer."

"What the fuck is this?" Pat Sr. asks from the kitchen.

Pat, who had darted past his mother and Tiffany, glances towards his father as he stands in front of the sink.

Pat shrugs. "What?" he asks.

"What is it?" Dolores asks

"What the fuck is this, Pat?" Pat Sr. repeats.

Pat nearly laughs. "It's the sink, Pop."

"Don't." Pat Sr. snaps loudly. "Don't you be a fucking smart-ass. Your pills. They were down the sink. I was pouring you a glass of water and I looked down, and what do I see? Your fucking pills stuck in the sink!"

Jake sighs heavily and lowers his head. "Pat..." he sighs.

"Your pills?" Tiffany steps closer.

"Patty," Dolores quietly says, "What where they doing in there? Did you drop them on accident."

"No, he didn't drop them. He spat them out. Didn't you, Pat? Didn't you?" Pat Sr. asks.

Pat groans and throws his hands up to his head, he runs his hands through his hair, down to his neck, and then shifts his stance.

"Pat." Pat Sr. stern says.

"Patty, tell me he's wrong." Dolores pleads sadly, her hand resting on her forehead.

Pat groans loudly. "I don't get what the big fucking mess is about."

"Pat, what the fuck?" Tiffany shouts loudly. "What is going on?"

"Oh, come on. I was feeling better so I cut back." Pat shrugs.

Pat Sr. moves quickly towards Pat, a look of anger and disappointed painted over his face.

"What the fuck are you doing to me, Pat? To your mother? To your family? You promised. You fucking promised me. Your liar! You promised me, Pat. You said you were good. You said you didn't want to go back to Baltimore." Pat Sr. shouts.

"I'm not going back to Baltimore. I'm not going back there. Fuck. No way. And don't call me that, Pop. I'm not. I feel good, okay? I'm feeling good. Real good. I feel energetic, and better, and I feel like I want to run, and read, and I just feel great. I don't need all of them. Not as many as I was on. That was too much. I feel great. I started a new book. The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. Tiffany said she liked it. It's great so far. It is just-"

"I don't give a fuck what the book is, Pat." Pat Sr. sighs.

Pat pauses. "That's rude."

"What happened, Pat? What the fuck happened? You were good at the dance with Tiffany. You were great because of Tiffany. And now this?" Pat Sr. asks, as he moves closer towards his son.

"Fuck!" he groans. "I don't get what the big deal is about. I don't get what the big fucking fuss is about."

"The fuss is about your health, Pat." Tiffany says loudly. "It's about your fucking mental health, Pat."

"What, and you think you're fucking superior to me or something?" Pat scoffs. "Like you're qualified to give me advice on my mental health? Like any of you are?"

"Oh, Pat." Dolores sighs, placing her hand to her forehead.

Pat sighs and nearly throws his hands up in the air. "Look.. Everyone just needs to calm the fuck down. It's not a big deal."

"Don't say that. Don't say that, Pat. Don't say it's not a big deal, because it is." Jake says loudly.

"What the fuck, Jake?" Pat breaks out into a small laugh.

"Pat." Dolores sighs.

"No, Ma." Pat shakes his head. "Look, Jake - You just need to shut up, okay? Because you don't know what the fuck you're talking about. None of you do."

"Pat." Jake sighs. "I was-"

"What started this, Pat?" Pat Sr. asks.

"I did." Tiffany says.

Pat scoffs. "Oh, come on, Tiffany. You know that's not true. There's nothing to start. I'm fine. Okay? I'm great. I don't get what the fuss is over. I'm still taking my pills. I'm running. I'm getting fitter than I was. I'm healing myself. And I'm just pumped for work tomorrow. I just can't stop thinking about working and how great it's going to be. And finishing my book. I'd like to finish my book in the car, on the way over. If that's okay?"

"You're not working tomorrow." Pat Sr. says.

Pat halts, from where he had been moving towards the fridge.

He stops and turns towards his father, who has his hand pressed to his creased forehead.

"What?"

"I said you're not working tomorrow." Pat Sr. says.

Pat's frown deepens. "You're kidding, right?"

"You can't work like this. Not with how you are." Pat Sr. adds.

"Come on, Pat. You just need to rest and recover, man, you'll be good." Ronnie cuts in.

"Look, I think you need to shut up too, alright? Because you don't know what you're talking about." Pat points at Ronnie.

"Hey! You can't talk to your friends like this." Tiffany loudly cuts in.

Pat groans and lifts his hands to his face, covering his face.

"Like they all know so fucking much about what I'm dealing with." he says, his words muffled and low.

"What are you dealing with, Pat? Tell us, let us help you." Jake suggests.

"Fuck. I just – what, so you're firing me, Pop?" Pat's voice rises, dropping his hands to his side.

"I don't know, Pat. I don't know." Pat Sr. sighs.

Pat is overcome with emotions as he looks upon his father who is so disappointed in him.

But Pat mistakes this as his father being ashamed of him.

"Fuck, I should have known. You don't want me working in there because you're ashamed." Pat shouts accusingly. "Fuck. I should have known."

"Pat, that's enough." Dolores says sadly.

"No. No. It's not enough. It's not enough that I'm your son and you should support me, and be proud of me, but you act as though some fucking pill is going to make every fucking thing better. Well it doesn't." Pat replies loudly.

"You promised me, Pat." Pat Sr. repeats.

"You promised me. You said I could work at the fucking diner- You think I wouldn't have stopped if I didn't have control of it?" Pat asks.

"You're not working there. Not until you're better." Pat Sr. declares.

Then it dawns upon Pat.

"I'm not going to Baltimore. I'm not." Pat shakes his head.

He backs away, towards the back door.

Ronnie starts, "Pat, no one wants you to go back-"

Pat shakes his head. "I'm not going back. And I'm not staying here when you're all looking at me like that."

Ronnie turns back to the group once Pat has left the room, he releases a deep sigh before he speaks.

"Look.." Ronnie says, "Why don't you all head over to the diner. I'll get Pat to have some coffee, maybe a shower – I'll try and talk with him. Then we'll come right over. I'll drive him, okay?"

Pat Sr. shakes his head. "You don't have to do that, Ronnie."

Ronnie nods. "I know, I know. But I want to. It's probably better if it's coming from me, and not his family."

Dolores agrees. "Okay."

Eventually, Ronnie manages to take Pat's book away from him and convince him to have a shower and change into a clean pair of clothes. Ronnie heads downstairs, with the book in his hand so Pat won't sneak out and read it, and makes Pat a mug of coffee.

Pat comes down the stairs shortly after, dressed in a dark brown hoodie and black pants. He asks for the book back, stating that he doesn't want the coffee and he doesn't want to go to the diner.

"Pat." Ronnie sighs. "Come on, man. Talk to me. Tell me what's going on."

"What, because you think you'll be able to-" Pat starts.

"No, Pat." Ronnie says, "It's because I'm your friend, that's what friends do. What's happening? Did something happen with you and Tiffany?"

"You know, I don't really want to talk about that." Pat announces, sounding tired. "Or about Tiffany."

Ronnie steps closer to Pat. "Do you not like Tiffany anymore?"

"What?! How could you say that? Of course I do. Of course I like Tiffany. I love her. I just..."

"Come on, man." Ronnie says, "Tell me."

"You wouldn't understand, you couldn't." Pat shrugs carelessly.

Ronnie pushes forward. "Try me."

"It's nothing. It's just..I don't want to go to the diner, and I don't want your coffee. I'm not hungry. I just want to read, Ronnie. Just give me back the book. I'm almost finished." Pat says, sounding tired.

He reaches for the book but Ronnie pulls it away and places it behind his back.

"You don't get the book back until you tell me what's happening, man." Ronnie shakes his head. "Your family and I just want to help you."

"You need to get the fuck outta my house, and give me my book on your way out." Pat snaps, his voice unintentionally rising.

"Not your house, brother. It's your parents, and they said I could stay. So, nice try but no. Start talking." Ronnie smiles smugly.

Pat sighs and lifts his hands to his head, running them slowly over his head. "What is there to talk about? What is there to say? I just – Do you ever get the feeling like your life is already planned for you, already mapped out, and despite everything that you try to do and say, and all you try to achieve, if it wasn't meant to be then it won't happen? Well I do. And I feel like things don't change. Really. I mean, how can things change permanently? It's history repeating itself. Sure, time passes, you think things will be different but they're not and things don't really change. What if we're stuck into a course, a path that we can't get off? And we know where it's headed. We know what's coming, what's going to happen next, but there's you can do to stop it or alter it and you're just helpless. You ever feel like that, Ronnie?"

Ronnie nods slowly, almost astounded by the depth and emotion in Pat's words. "Sometimes, yeah."

Pat moves around slowly as he speaks, unable to stand still and unable to look Ronnie directly in the eyes as he pours out a part of his heart. "Do you ever feel like life itself is just..I don't know. Not pointless. But like..What am I doing here? Why was I put on this Earth? What was I supposed to achieve with my life, what was I supposed to do? I haven't achieved anything. I haven't done anything notable, I haven't done much good. And what good is there really in this world? Sure, we get moments of blissful happiness which is great, and beautiful – It's euphoric and we think it won't pass, we think it'll last forever, but it doesn't and then it's just gone and there's nothing left. Nothing."

"Look, man..." Ronnie starts.

Pat smiles. "Honestly, Ronnie, you don't have to say it. Come on, man. There's no way you can respond to that. You don't want to respond to it. I'm making you feel awkward, right? It's an awkward and difficult situation which you do not have to get involved in, okay? Look. I don't want to go to the diner tonight. I don't. I just feel like staying home and thinking on everything. Is that okay with you?"

"I told them you'd come, Pat." Ronnie reaches out and puts a hand on Pat's shoulder. "Your family want you there. It's your family diner."

"Yeah, well.." Pat shrugs off Ronnie's hand and reaches for the book. "It'll be standing tomorrow. I might stop by then."

Ronnie steps back, the book still firmly in his hands. "I don't want to leave you like this, man."

"Like what?" Pat frowns. I just want to sleep, Ronnie. I'm real tired. It's been a long day."

"Your Pop wants you there." Ronnie says. "He wants you to come."

"You think I wanna go in there? After what just happened down here?" Pat laughs. "Nope. Not interested."

"You gotta let them in, Pat. They're your family. I'm your family. You have to let us in, let us help you." Ronnie nearly pleads.

Pat ducks forward, snatches the book from Ronnie's hand and smiles. "Nice chat, Ronnie. How 'bout we do it again sometime?"

"Pat, come on." Ronnie sighs loudly. "Don't do this. You were good."

Pat calls out from the staircase. "Your use of past tense is noted and not appreciate. I was good and I still am good."

* * *

"How is he?" Pat Sr. asks, as he takes Ronnie to the side.

Ronnie hasn't had much time to take in everything about the diner, because he's too worried, too focused, on Pat and how and what he's doing at this very moment.

Tiffany comes to stand beside Pat Sr. seconds later.

"Look..I don't.." Ronnie sighs with defeat. "He's not how he was before. He was talking fast but it was all really gloomy stuff. I tried to ask him why, he wasn't interested."

"What'd he say?" Tiffany crosses her arms.

"The short version of it all is he feels like his life is mapped out, that he doesn't really have a say in what happens, that none of us do, and that history is sort of repeating itself. It sounded like he thought we had an inevitable end, like we know what's coming and we're just helpless to it all. He sounded resigned. Like he'd achieved nothing in his life and he had nothing left. I didn't want to leave him but I felt that you all had a right to know. I gave him back his book and he went to bed. I think he needs to sleep. He was tired." Ronnie says.

Pat Sr. hesitates before he speaks softly. "Thank you, Ronnie. For trying to talk with him. I don't understand where this is coming from."

"Oh god." Tiffany exhales heavily.

She shuts her eyes and lifts her head to her hands.

_History repeating itself._

Tiffany understands this, she knows what Pat means by it even if Ronnie and Pat Sr. seem oblivious to the real reason.

"Tiffany, is everything okay?" Pat Sr. asks.

Tiffany pulls away from Pat Sr. and Ronnie, she reaches for her coat, slides it on, and moves hastily towards the door.

Once outside, she breathes in the cool air sharply and exhales heavily. She begins walking, back to Pat's house.

She needs to see him.

But then she stops and shuts her eyes again.

He might not want to see her, if this is all because of her and how she was oblivious to everything that she was doing and all of the mistakes that she was constantly making.

"Damn it." Tiffany curses and fights the urge to hit something.

She should have been smarter, she should have tried harder to be there for him and to take it slower. She should have read the signs instead of ignoring them.

She could have stopped this, she could have stopped Pat falling down, but instead she assisted it.

She hears Pat Sr. calling out to her, and so opens her eyes.

"Tiffany, what's going on?" he asks.

She shakes her head and bites down on her bottom lip.

"Tiffany, is everything alright?" Pat Sr asks.

"No. I fucked this up." she curses and drops her head.

Pat Sr. moves towards her, finding that her expression is one of rage and sadness.

"You didn't fuck anything up." he says soothingly.

She shakes her head, unable to believe his words.

"History repeating itself?!" she states.

Pat Sr. frowns, at first he doesn't understand so Tiffany spells it out to him.

"His history with Nikki is repeating itself with me. I'm repeating it." Tiffany says.

The frown on his face deepens. "What?" he asks, the absurdity of such a suggestion echoes throughout his voice.

"Take this as a compliment when I say you're nothing like Nikki. You wouldn't hurt Pat the way she did."

"No, you're right, I wouldn't. But I can sure as hell remind him of it, of the pain he felt." Tiffany answers, the anger deepening in her eyes.

Pat Sr. pauses. "I don't understand, Tiffany."

Tiffany swallows tightly before she next speaks.

"Pat and I showered together, the last time he saw two people showering together was Nikki and that fucking history teacher with tenure. Pat and Nikki worked together, this whole diner situation would involve Pat working with me. He beat up that history teacher who had the affair with Nikki, Pat beat up that guy who hit on me outside the bar. It's fucking history repeating itself and it's my fault."

"Don't say that, Tiffany. Please, don't say it's your fault." Pat Sr. says.

She shakes her head with disbelief, disbelief at how foolish she was and how she didn't stop to consider how Pat was really doing.

"But it is. I should have known. I should have opened my eyes. Do you know why he probably stopped taking his pills? He's either telling the truth, and he did feel better and like he didn't need them, or because it's like history and he didn't take pills back then -"

Tiffany comes to an abrupt stop and shuts her eyes.

"Tiffany?" Pat Sr. says.

"Did Pat and Nikki discuss having children?" she asks slowly, eyes still shut.

Pat Sr. sighs. "Yeah. They did discuss it, Pat told me that she didn't want to have children."

Tiffany opens her eyes slowly and exhales. "I said that to him. Last night."

* * *

**A/N: Hello, all. I just want to firstly thank everyone who takes the time to read my story, it truly means so much to me so thank you. I hope you enjoy this new chapter, which is primarily focused on Pat and the rollercoaster he's been on since before the dance. He was so high before, and he's sort of headed down and I wanted to show that because I'm trying to make my story as realistic as possible and everyone has good times and bad times.**

**Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy.  
X**


	13. Silver struggle

**Disclaimer: Silver Linings Playbook is copyright to Matthew Quick and David O Russel. All Rights Reserved. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made. I claim and own nothing.**

* * *

Tiffany leaves the diner on foot without looking back. Pat Sr. returns inside after their conversation, tells Veronica and Ronnie that Tiffany left upset, and then informs Dolores that he'll have to return home to Pat.

He insists that Dolores remains with Jake and Danny, to show them around and help them get used to the diner and what they'll be working with. Pat Sr. insists that he'll return but he doesn't count on it.

He drives home quickly, finding as he enters that all of the lights downstairs are off.

"Pat?!" Pat Sr. calls out, moving upstairs.

He assumes that Pat will be in his bedroom, and he finds him here.

He finds Pat resting on his bed, in deep concentration, reading a book. Pat doesn't glance up when Pat Sr. enters, he doesn't acknowledge him when he enters, so Pat snatches the book away from Pat and puts it behind his back.

"No, Pop – What are you doing?" Pat calls out, sighing.

He stands from the bed and reaches for the book, Pat Sr. doesn't let him have it.

"Sit down." Pat Sr. instructs.

Pat doesn't move, instead he tries to persuade his father to give him back the book he'd almost finished reading.

"Come on, I'm almost finished!" Pat says.

"I don't care, Pat. Sit down." Pat Sr. sternly says.

Pat pauses before he sighs, and walks towards his bed. He takes a seat at the end and waits for the avalanche of words he believes his father is going to shout at him.

But Pat Sr. doesn't shout.

He puts the book down, in the very corner of the room, and then walks towards Pat. When he reaches the bed, Pat Sr. sits down upon it and looks up to find Pat watching him.

"What's going on, Pat?" Pat Sr. asks.

He wants to know this, he wants to be here for his son, he wants to understand it this time because he never understood it before.

"Pop, I don't want to do this." Pat sighs.

"You know what I don't want, Pat?" Pat Sr. asks.

Pat shrugs. "No. What? What don't you want? A son you're ashamed of?"

"I'm not ashamed of you, Patty. Disappointed? Yes. But ashamed? No, never ashamed." Pat Sr. replies without hesitation.

Pat releases a deep sigh. "Great. Now I feel like shit because you're disappointed in me."

"I'm not the only one who's disappointed. Your mother is. She was really upset, Pat. Tiffany is upset to-" Pat Sr. says.

"Can we not talk about this?" Pat asks, standing from the bed. "I don't feel like it."

"Patty, come on. Talk to me. Tell me, what is going on with you?" Pat Sr. pleads.

He's only wanted the best for his son, wanted his son to live the best and happiest life that he could. And as he looks upon his son now, he finds that Pat doesn't look like he's at his best and he doesn't look happy.

"There's nothing to talk about, Pop." Pat lies.

"You feel like you don't have a purpose, like you've achieved nothing?" Pat Sr. asks.

Pat runs his hands over his face and sighs.

"Fuck, I'm tired." Pat says.

Pat Sr. keeps pushing Pat. "I'm tired too, Patty. I am. So talk to me now, please."

Pat nearly laughs. "I don't know what you want me to say? I skipped a couple pills because I was doing better, because I felt great and I felt that I was taking too many."

"This little 'skipping' of your pills isn't nothing, Pat. You miss one and things change, but you said you've missed a couple. That's not good, Pat. How many have you missed?" Pat Sr. asks.

He receives silence.

"How many have you missed, Pat?" Pat Sr. loudly repeats.

Pat shrugs. "I don't know."

"How could you not know?" Pat Sr. sighs.

"I don't know. A couple. More than two. I think. Look, I'm okay. Everyone just needs to calm down. It's not a big deal." Pat answers.

"Don't say that, Pat. Of course it's a big deal. Does this have something to do with Nikki?"

Pat freezes. "What?" he frowns. "Nikki- What are you talking about? This has nothing to do with Nikki. It has nothing to do with her. Why would you say that? Why would you ask that, Pop?"

"Tiffany thinks it does." Pat Sr. states.

"Tiffany does? What- Really? Tell her- Or, when she comes over here I'll tell her myself. I'll tell her that it has nothing to do with Nikki." Pat loudly replies.

Pat Sr. sighs. "I asked Tiffany not to come around for a while."

Pat's expression drops. "What? Why would you do that? What the fuck?" he asks, his mouth hanging open.

"Just for a little while, until we figure out what caused this." Pat Sr. informs him.

Pat's frown becomes deeper. "Tiffany didn't cause this. What, does she think she did?"

"Pat, that girl is the best thing that has happened to you. But, she agreed that she should give you time and space. It's just..I agree with her, Pat. There are a lot of things she said that may have caused this, and I agree." Pat Sr. answers calmly. "Look, Pat-"

"Nothing happened with Tiffany. I don't fucking understand...I don't want to do this." Pat nearly shouts.

"Okay," Pat Sr. nods. "So don't talk about it with me. But you're going to see Dr. Patel tomorrow-"

Pat shakes his head quickly, pacing as he does. "The diner, Pop. I can't see him tomorrow. I was planning on going for a run, and reading, and then stopping by the diner to see Tiffany-"

Pat Sr. hesitates.

"What?" Pat frowns.

"Tiffany isn't working at the diner right now." Pat Sr. answers.

Pat becomes louder, angrier almost. "What? What did you say to her? I don't understand, Pop. Why are you doing this?"

"I'm not doing anything, Pat." Pat Sr. replies softly. "Tiffany doesn't want to work at the diner. She isn't up for working at the moment. It was her decision."

"I don't – I-" Pat stutters.

"Sleep on it, Pat." Pat Sr. pleads. "Try to get some rest."

Pat shakes his head still. "I'm not tired."

Pat Sr. places a gentle hand on his son's shoulder, sighing as he does. "Sleep, Pat. Please."

* * *

"Another beer." Tiffany orders, as she slides back down onto her stool at the bar.

The bartender nods and serves her, she pays him and thanks him before she removes the cap and begins drinking her fourth beer for the night.

On her way home she came across this little, quiet bar and it was just what Tiffany needed after the night she had; she needed alcohol.

She glances up as a black haired woman, dressed in a gray trench-coat and black jeans, sits down next to Tiffany on the stool. The two share a brief exchange, a nod, before the woman orders a soft drink.

"Oh, I'm sorry-" The woman starts. "Is this seat taken?" she asks.

Tiffany shakes her head. "Nope." she says, before downing more beer.

The woman's brown eyes flicker over the bottles of beer before she looks back at Tiffany.

"Rough night?" she asks.

Tiffany nods again. "Yep."

"Aren't they all?" the woman replies, releasing a heavy sigh. "I was, er..I was supposed to meet my fiances family. I mean, we had some news to tell them. And..The whole thing just turned to shit."

"Sounds a little like my evening." Tiffany sighs, before she extends her hand. "I'm Tiffany."

"Pat's Tiffany?" she asks.

Tiffany nods warily. "Uh, yeah..Who are you?"

"I'm Clare." she says.

Tiffany's frown deepens. "I'm sorry..."

"Oh, we haven't met. I'm Jake's fiancé. Clare."

"Oh! Clare!" Tiffany exclaims. "Wait – You were supposed to come to the diner tonight?"

"Mhm." Clare nods. "Then Jake called, and told me it was off. He said it went to shit. He didn't say why or how, he just told me to go home."

"So you came to a bar?" Tiffany asks.

Clare hesitates. "I was hungry, and it's on the way. You want to share a bowl of chips? I was thinking of buying some and I won't eat them all."

Tiffany shrugs. "Sure! You want to get a table?"

Clare smiles. "Sure. I'll get the chips, you get the table."

When Clare joins Tiffany at the table, with a beer for Tiffany and a water for herself, Tiffany smiles thankful and takes the beer.

"You're not drinking?" Tiffany asks.

Clare shakes her head. "Not tonight." she smiles pleasantly.

Tiffany returns the smile. "Well.." she starts, somewhat awkwardly. "I hope you don't mind if I down a couple more of these guys." she taps the beer bottle.

"Go right ahead, as long as you're not driving." Clare answers.

Tiffany shakes her head. "Nope. I walked here from the diner."

"I hope you don't mind me asking, but is Pat okay? Jake told me that things turned bad, but he didn't say what exactly." Clare says.

She pauses before she quickly says, "I hope I'm not stepping over line."

"You're engaged to Jake, that makes you part of their family – You're not stepping over a line. Pat's just been having some problems." Tiffany replies.

"I noticed your use of 'their' family. You don't feel like you're a part of it, Tiffany?"

"What are you, a counsellor?" Tiffany sighs.

The pause in conversation as well as the smile that forms on her face gives Tiffany her answer; yes, Clare is a counselor.

Tiffany swallows another large mouthful of beer before she speaks again.

"Well, this is awkward..."

"It doesn't have to be." Clare shakes her head. "We'll change the topic. Tell me about yourself, Tiffany. About what you do."

Tiffany falters. "Not much to tell."

"There's got to be something." Clare smiles kindly.

Tiffany can see that she's trying to get to know her, trying to be kind, trying to be her friend.

So, Tiffany exhales heavily and speaks.

"I dance a lot, and run. I sort of have my own little studio at my place. But, er..Work-wise. I was planning on working at the diner, but I don't think that's going to work out."

"Why not?" Clare asks.

They are interrupted briefly by their bowl of chips being carried over. Clare thanks them then returns her attention to Tiffany, who continues to speak slowly.

"Well, I have no idea how to work the register and so on." she says. "I mean, sure I've read the menu and I can read it back to you if you asked, but I don't think I'm the right...fit. I don't think I ever was."

"The right fit for what, Tiffany? The diner or Pat?" Clare asks, curiously.

"Both." Tiffany nervously smiles. "So enough about me. Tell me about yourself."

"Well, I'm a counsellor who spends my time working at schools and with children, as well as with clients. I'm currently studying at University to deepen my experience and expand on my degree. Jake and I are engaged, as you know. The wedding is coming up soon. Oh, we're also considering buying a dog."

Tiffany's smile widens. "What sort of dog?"

"I don't know yet." Clare returns the smile. "We haven't had much time to look. Jake's busy a lot."

Tiffany nods. "Congratulations on the wedding. You and Jake seem happy, and everyone is happy for you."

"Thanks, Tiffany." Clare smiles. "I, er..."

"What?" Tiffany asks.

"I was thinking that, and you can say no if you like, if you wanted to we could do something tomorrow."

Tiffany frowns slightly. "Like what?" she asks.

"Like...Go looking for a dog to buy." Clare suggests.

The frown disappears from Tiffany's face, and is replaced by a smile.

"Sure. I don't have any other plans." Tiffany eagerly answers.

"Really?" Clare smiles.

"Sure. Here's my address..." Tiffany starts, as she begins scrawling down her address on a coaster. "Come by whenever you're ready."

Clare nods. "I will. I, er..I should be going, Tiffany. Do you need a lift home?"

Tiffany shakes her head. "Nope, I'll be fine."

"Okay." Clare smiles. "I'll see you tomorrow."

* * *

Pat finds that sleep is not something attainable for him in this hour, or in any of the hours that passed him by, so he stretches his tired and sore bones, showers, and reads.

He finishes reading his book, unable to move onto the next one once he has finished. The words replay in his mind, the meaning stays with him, deepens, and he tries to make sense of it all.

_We were meant to lose people. _

Pat sighs and briefly shuts his eyes.

_How else would we know how important they are?_

Those words stay in his mind, stick with him, and remain with him throughout the night and the early morning that comes. But still in the morning, when the sun falls upon his room and slips through the blinds, Pat doesn't feel like sleeping, despite that he is tired.

He doesn't want to eat just yet, but he does want to shower.

He showers quickly, scrubbing at his skin harshly, before he dresses into clean clothes and heads downstairs.

He finds the house empty.

"Ma?" he calls out.

Footsteps come out from the kitchen and he finds Jake standing before him.

Pat frowns. "Where's everyone?"

And then he remembers that his parents will be at the diner.

It's where Pat should be but isn't.

It's where Tiffany should be but she isn't and she won't ever be there, she doesn't want to be.

"Whoa, Pat. Where you headed?" Jake asks, walking quickly to his brother's side.

"Running." Pat says slowly, like it's so simple.

Jake shakes his head. "You gotta go see Cliff."

Pat sighs. "Come on, Jake-"

"Pat. We're going to see Cliff. Now." Jake says, crossing his arms.

Pat gives in minutes later.

The brothers drive mostly in silence, with the exception of Jake trying to talk to Pat about what's going on and Pat diverting about it by bringing up facts and information about whatever comes to his mind; like cars and their creators, makers, manufacturers and designers.

Jake waits in the car for Pat, because he doesn't want to intrude and come inside.

After Pat enters Dr Patel's office, he takes a seat down on the couch and waits for him to speak.

"How are you doing, Pat?" Cliff asks.

Pat scoffs. "Come on, Cliff. Our session wasn't scheduled for a couple days, we both know why I'm fucking here."

"Explain it to me, Pat." Cliff suggests.

Pat releases a heavy sigh. "Fuck. Why does everyone keep saying that? I don't know what the fuck I'm supposed to explain."

"Start by telling me why you're here." Cliff says.

Pat pauses. "I'm here because my family thinks that I'm having a relapse because I skipped some of my medication."

Cliff nods. "Okay. Next, tell me why you did that."

"Why I did what? Why I skipped my medication?" Pat asks.

Cliff nods again, remaining silent, his eyes settled on Pat.

"I felt good. Okay? I know, it's a stupid reason but I felt better. I felt like I was taking too many, so I just cut back on a couple." Pat answers.

"It's not a stupid reason, Pat. It wasn't a very good idea, considering that any lapse in taking your medication changes the levels that you have in your system and, as I can see, it has effected your behaviour." Cliff states.

A look of bewilderment crosses Pat's features.

"My behaviour?!" he nearly gasps. My behaviour hasn't changed."

"Pat," Cliff releases an unsteady sigh. "The man sitting before me today, and the man I saw on our last session are two different people. They are not the same. So, please, talk to me, Pat."

"I'm the same guy." Pat shrugs and crosses his arms. "I am. I don't understand what the big fucking deal is."

"The big deal, Pat, is that your family are worried about you. You didn't take your medication, that will cause them to worry. They're worried about losing you again, Pat. They don't want to do that. And you don't want to lose them, do you?" Cliff asks.

Pat considers his words before he finally shakes his head.

"I don't want that." he mutters. "That's not what I want."

"Okay." Cliff nods. "What do you want, Pat?"

Silence follows and remains for several minutes, until Pat finally speaks. Cliff doesn't push Pat for an answer but instead waits for Pat to form his own.

"I want a lot of things." Pat answers finally, with a softer voice.

"Please, Pat. Start by telling me one of the things you want." Cliff says.

Pat pauses.

"I want a purpose." he says.

Cliff nods. "That's understandable, Pat. Everybody wants a purpose. By stating that you want a purpose, does that mean you want to return to teaching? Or do you want to switch to a different career, one that you feel fulfills you and your desire for a purpose."

"I don't know. Look, I just...I don't think teaching was it. It felt good, you know? Helping kids learn. But it wasn't...Look. I don't fucking know what my purpose is, okay? I don't know. But I've got the time to figure it out. Stop hounding me, okay, Cliff? Please." Pat replies.

"I'm not hounding you, Pat." Cliff replies.

More silence fills the room.

Pat shifts uncomfortably in his seat before he meets Cliff's gaze slowly. "I'm sorry."

"That's fine, Pat." Cliff nods.

"I want Tiffany." he says finally. "Okay? I want to be with Tiffany. I want to love her and give her the life that she wants, the life that she deserves."

Pat releases a small sigh. "But I don't know if the life that she wants, and the life that I want are the same thing."

"Does Tiffany have something to do with you skipping your medication, Pat?" Cliff asks.

Pat frowns deeply. "What? What would Tiffany have to do with it?"

"You tell me, Pat." Cliff replies.

"No. You tell me, because clearly everyone is seeing something that I'm not. My pop asked me the same thing. Fuck. He thinks this has something to do with Nikki, and Tiffany." Pat answers angrily.

"Does it?" Cliff asks.

"What?" Pat returns.

"Does it have something to do with Nikki and Tiffany? Or the man who attempted to attack Tiffany at the bar?" Cliff asks.

Pat leans forward in his chair. "Are you – are you seriously asking me that?"

"Yes I am, Pat." Cliff nods.

Pat stutters and stumbles over his next words.

"No. This doesn't..What would this have to do with Tiffany? Or Nikki? God. It has nothing to do with Nikki. I don't feel anything for Nikki. I love Tiffany. Not Nikki."

Cliff sighs. "Pat, you can't honestly tell me that you don't feel anything for Nikki. It doesn't have to be love, it doesn't have to be lust or anything good. There could be feelings of anger still there. Feelings of resentment towards her."

Pat shakes his head quickly and lifts his hands to his forehead. "I don't lust after Nikki, and I don't love her. Not anymore. It wasn't real, it wasn't like what I have with..."

"You know...Do you know, er..." Pat begins but stops.

He lowers his hand to his cheek and almost scratches nervously at his skin, then he runs his tongue over his dry lips and shuts his eyes. Finally, he drops his hands to his side and releases a deep sigh he'd been holding for a moment.

"What is it, Pat?" Cliff ask.

"It's me." Pat groans as he tilts his head backwards.

A sad smile spreads on Pat's lips. "It's fucking me. This is all on me. It's my fault, my mess, and my fuck up. I can't – I can't hide behind this fucking lie of feeling better. I chose not to take the pills. I don't have a good explanation, or a real one. All I have is the truth and the truth is that I'm changing and I don't know why. I don't want to. I want to stay right here, and I want to be with Tiffany, but she doesn't want what I want. What if I'm not good for her? I want to think I am. God. With every part of my soul, every part of my being, I want to believe that I am a good enough person for her but am I? Am I really? Are we supposed to be together?"

"Pat, you need to-" Cliff starts.

He stops as Pat continues speaking.

"My pop, he was – he was right. This is on me. I'm the disappointment. And you know what? They have every reason to be disappointed. Fuck. I let them down. Again and again, and I think I've lost Tiffany. I think I've lost her for good. I fucked it up. She's not working at the diner. She's going to distance herself from me..."

"Pat, I..." Cliff says.

Pat nods. "This is – It was my fault."

"Why, Pat?" Cliff asks.

Pat lifts his hands to his eyes and rubs them. His eyes become red, and the tears threaten to spill out, but he shuts his eyes tightly and exhales.

"I let my family down. It was the fucking opening of the diner, and I let them down. I let Tiffany down. Fuck, I let you down. And I let myself down." Pat snaps back.

Cliff pauses. "Why did you stop taking your pills, Pat?"

"I told you," Pat sighs and stands from his chair. "I don't know. I don't fucking know."

"Pat, please, sit down." Cliff instructs.

He sighs and sits down, collapsing on the chair.

"What I think has happened, Pat, is that you have been so caught up in all of the good things that have happened recently that you have forgotten to feel the bad things." Cliff answers.

Pat shakes his head as a deeper frown spreads over his face. "Oh, I've felt the bad things. I still have a fucking shiner on my right eye. I felt the bad things."

"I'm not talking about physical things, Pat." Cliff answers. "I'm talking about your feelings. Your emotions. I think that you've been so caught up in feeling good that you didn't let yourself feel bad."

"That is- That is bullshit. Fucking bullshit, Cliff. No offense." Pat shakes his head. "I've felt the bad things. I've felt all of the fucking things. All the bad things."

"Like what?" Cliff asks.

"Like..." Pat starts, pausing only briefly.

"Like when Tiffany told me she didn't want to have children. Ever. That felt pretty fucking bad to me. And when my pop looked at me last night, and told me he was disappointed. That wasn't easy. That wasn't fucking easy." Pat admits.

"What I think you need, Pat.." Patel starts.

"Is Tiffany. I need Tiffany." Pat announces.

Cliff sighs. "I think you need time, Pat. I think you need to return to your recommended dosage of your medication, and I think you need to talk to your family."

Pat bites down on his bottom lip.

"Pat." Cliff says.

Pat shifts uncomfortably in his chair. "What you're saying I need is a lot easy said than done, my friend."

"So start with the little things, Pat." Cliff suggests.

Pat looks up slowly to meet his gaze. "Okay. Like.."

"Your medication." Cliff suggests. "Go home and take what you need to. Take what you need to when you're supposed to. And tell your family that you're going to stick to it."

"Fine. What next?" Pat crosses his arms over himself.

"What you do after that, Pat, has to be your own decision otherwise you're not making the change. You're just following another person's instructions. You have to do what's right, what you feels right for you. Okay, Pat?"

Pat sighs. "Like I said earlier, Cliff. Easier said than done."

* * *

**A/N: I'm sorry about the late update & I hope you enjoy it.**

**x**


	14. Silver fall

**Disclaimer: Silver Linings Playbook is copyright to Matthew Quick and David O Russel. All Rights Reserved. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made. I claim and own nothing.**

* * *

When Pat slides into the passenger seat, he shuts the door, locks in his seat-belt and settles his eyes upon the road. He says nothing and does nothing, he simply waits for Jake to start driving.

"How'd it go, Pat?" Jake asks.

"Fine. Let's go." Pat answers.

Jake doesn't move.

"Pat..." he sighs.

"How the fuck do you think it went, Jake?" Pat asks, keeping his eyes on the road. "Just drive home. Please."

Jake sighs and starts up the engine. "Whatever you need, brother."

"What I need, Jake, is for you to stop acting like you know what the fuck's going on." Pat snaps back.

And as soon as the words pass his lips he regrets them but he can't take them back.

"I'm not doing that." Jack answers quickly. "That's not what I'm doing, Pat."

Pat shakes his head. "Sure. Not today. You're not doing it today, but last night.."

Jake switches off the engine and turns to face Pat.

"Last night I was just trying to understand." Jake says softly.

"And today?" Pat replies. "What are you doing today, Jake? Tell me, do you understand what's happening in my life better than I do today?"

"I understand that something's going on. I don't know what, but something." Jake answers.

"Yeah, well, forget about it and just drive. Okay?" Pat says.

Jake sighs and gives in. "Fine."

They remain in silence for the entire drive home, and it is only once Jake pulls up outside the house that Pat finally breaks the silence.

"Thanks." Pat mutters, before he steps out and slams the car door.

Jake follows Pat inside, and into the living room where they find Pat Sr. waiting with his car keys in his hands.

"What are you doing here, pop?" Jake asks.

Pat brushes by his father without a glance and moves into the kitchen to get himself a glass of water. He pours it and swallows the entire contents.

"Came home to check in on Pat. How's he doing?" Pat Sr. turns to Jake.

"I'm right fucking here, pop. Right here. Don't talk about me in third person." Pat shouts out from the kitchen.

Pat Sr. sighs and looks over Pat briefly before he turns back to Jake.

"Go to the diner. Help out your mother, Pat and I need to talk about something." Pat Sr. states.

"I'm right here, pop. Still here." Pat says loudly. "Don't talk about me in third person."

And then it hits Pat: he just pulled a Tiffany.

Pat tries to shrug it out of his system, tries to stretch his shoulders and get rid of it.

"Okay, pop." Jake nods, before he disappears from the living room and heads to the diner.

When Pat Sr. turns to Pat he finds him stretching, with a frown across his face.

"What are you doing?" Pat Sr. asks.

"What? It's not strange. This isn't strange. I'm stretching, shaking - I just asked that you don't speak about me in third person, like I'm not here. It's rude and it makes me feel uncomfortable." Pat stops stretching.

"Why are you acting strange for?" Pat Sr. frowns.

Pat shakes his head. "I'm not acting strange. And I'm right here, when I'm in the room it's rude to pretend that I'm not here.."

"Pat..." Pat Sr. releases a heavy sigh.

He takes several steps towards the kitchen, watching Pat closely as he does.

Pat Sr. stops before Pat. "You're not."

Pat's frown deepens. "What?"

"Right now you're not here. My son, my Patty, my boy isn't here right now." Pat Sr. sighs and lifts his shaky hand to his forehead.

He rubs at his tough skin before he releases another heavy sigh.

"I don't know where he's gone, or when he's coming back...I don't even know if he's coming back, but I want him back. More than anything." Pat Sr. says, with a voice that is filled with such sadness and pain.

His words and his voice cause Pat to feel such undeniable guilt and anger. Pat throws his glass down in the sink, causing it to smash. He lifts his hands to his forehead and grabs tightly at his hair.

"Fuck." he fights the urge to shout.

"Talk to me, Pat." Pat Sr. pleads.

Pat continues to shake his head as he begins to pace.

"I didn't want to. I don't know why I did. It just happened and then I felt fine, and I didn't want to face what I did." Pat admits.

"What are you talking about?" Pat Sr. places a hand on Pat's shoulder.

Pat pulls away quickly, like he'll somehow hurt his father if he just touches him.

"Pat..."

"It's my fault. It's all my fucking fault. And I'm sorry, pop. I'm sorry."

Pat tries to back away but his father won't let him, he grabs Pat by his hand and pulls him forward.

"Don't walk out on me. Don't walk out on this." Pat Sr. nearly pleads, nearly begs for Pat to not give up on this, to not give up on himself and his family.

Pat's hardened exterior crumbles.

"I don't want to but I don't know what to do. I feel – I don't know..I don't fucking know."

"Come here." Pat Sr. tries to embrace him.

Pat still backs away, but his father keeps his hand wrapped tightly around Pat's wrist.

"Don't leave me, Pat. You can't run away from this."

"I don't know what to do, pop." Pat admits.

He begins to kneel down slowly on the ground, Pat Sr. moves towards him and the two move down to the ground. Pat Sr. wraps his arms around Pat, and he lets him.

"I'm so sorry, pop." Pat whispers, his head against his father's shoulder.

Pat Sr. sits down on the cool tiles, allowing Pat to rest his body against him.

"I don't know what happened and somehow I just ended up here. And I didn't- I didn't want this. I wanted to be good. For you, for Tiffany. For myself. I just fucked it up, and you're all disappointed, and I never wanted this. You gotta believe me when I say that I didn't want this to happen." Pat whispers.

Pat Sr. nods and pulls his son closer to him; all that he's ever wanted, and all that he ever will want, is to keep Pat safe and happy.

"You're going to be okay, Pat." Pat Sr. says, "If you return to your medication, and you keep seeing Cliff, you'll be okay. But you gotta talk to us. Talk to me, tell me what's going on."

"I just..." Pat sighs heavily. "I felt useless. Like I didn't have a purpose, like I wasn't good enough for anyone. And I think..Fuck. You and Cliff were right. What was happening with Tiffany...It was just like.."

"History repeating itself." Pat Sr. says.

Pat pauses.

"No. But yes. Everything I felt with Nikki – all the bad stuff, all the terrible feelings about myself and the bad thoughts came back and I didn't wanna feel them so I stopped myself. And – just..I'm just tired, pop. I'm tired of feeling like this. I just want to be good, I just want to be happy. I just want you and ma, and everyone to be good. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I fucked this up and I'm sorry."

"You didn't fuck anything up, Pat. You made a mistake, we all do."

"I'm sorry. I love you, pop. I'm so sorry."

"Shh," Pat Sr. whispers. It's okay. It's going to be okay."

* * *

When Ronnie arrives at the house he finds Pat Sr. in the kitchen, making a sandwich in the kitchen.

"Hey," Ronnie calls out. "How's it going?"

Pat Sr. looks up from the plate and nods. "Yeah, Pat's upstairs sleeping."

"That's good?" Ronnie asks, uncertain of whether it is good or not.

Pat Sr. nods enthusiastically. "It is, he hasn't slept properly in days. I think, Ronnie...I think I got through to him. He took his pills. He talked to me. And I mean, he really talked. About everything that was going on and all that he was feeling."

"That's great." Ronnie sighs with relief and happiness.

"It is," Pat Sr. agrees. "Week or two, he'll be back to himself. Maybe even less. He's gonna be better soon, my boy. I know it."

Ronnie smiles. "Great."

"Yeah, er..How is Tiffany doing?" Pat Sr. steps out of the kitchen.

"Er.." Ronnie pauses. "She's doing okay, I think. She came to our house last night, late..She was really drunk, so that wasn't great. But this morning, we woke and she left a note – said she was going out with Jake's fiance, Clare. So, it's good that she's getting out."

Pat Sr, nods. "It is good. When you see her, tell her that I'm looking forward to seeing her again. We all are. Pat misses her a lot."

"Yeah, she misses him just as much. I'll tell her," Ronnie nods. "Will you let Pat know I stopped by?"

"Sure." Pat Sr. agrees. "Take care of Tiffany, will you?"

Ronnie smiles. "Will do."

* * *

Tiffany returns from her day out with Clare to her empty house. She doesn't go inside to see her parents because she'd rather be alone, but once she enters she finds that she isn't alone and that Veronica is inside sitting on the bottom of the stairs. When Veronica spots Tiffany, she stands and smiles at her.

"Tiffany," Veronica says.

Tiffany immediately frowns. "What is it?"

"Nothing." Veronica shakes her head. "I was just in the neighbor and thought I'd stop by."

Tiffany sighs and moves towards her sister. "You're always in the neighborhood, Veronica. What's going on?"

Tiffany halts suddenly. "Is it Pat? Is he okay?"

"Yeah, Pat's fine, sweetie." Veronica nods. "I just wanted to see how your day was, and how you're doing."

"It was fine." Tiffany nods, "I just wanted to come home and..Be alone."

Veronica agrees. "Fine. I'll go, but if you're not doing anything tonight..Why don't you come over for dinner? Just you, me, and Ronnie."

Tiffany hesitates, thinking that she'd prefer a quiet night home alone but then she sees a certain hope in her sister's eyes and sighs, finding that she can't refuse her request.

"Fine." Tiffany agrees.

"Great. Do you want me to send Ronnie around 7:00?" Veronica smiles widely.

Tiffany shakes her head. "I'll walk."

"Great," Veronica repeats. "See you seven."

Veronica steps down from the staircase and embraces Tiffany, who only pauses for a moment before she hugs Veronica back.

"See you." Tiffany says quietly, as Veronica walks away.

Once the front door is shut and Tiffany is left alone, she turns to look down at her empty studio. She sighs and moves towards the staircase and slowly heads upstairs, and almost without knowing so she leads herself down towards the little room filled with books that she had set up for Pat.

When she reaches the handle Tiffany pauses before she finally enters. The room is soft and calm, and remains just as they left it. The last book that he'd read here still rests on the couch. She moves towards it and lies down, like she used to lie on Pat's lap, and shuts her eyes. She pretends that he's here with her now, that he's reading to her, and if she tries hard enough, if she keeps her eyes closed, it almost feels like nothing has changed, that he's still here, and that he's still reading to her.

It almost feels real.

But it's not real, because when Tiffany opens her eyes she's empty and alone on the outside and inside.

She jumps up quickly, angrily tossing Pat's book to the floor. She curses herself silently, because she isn't mad at Pat – she's mad at herself for pushing this, for pushing him, and for ruining this.

She should have been more cautious of her words, should have stopped before she spoke, shouldn't have called Pat into the shower, and she shouldn't have treated him the way she did.

Tiffany feels hot tears burning against her eyes as she rushes down the hallway and towards the bathroom. She tears away the shower curtain, causing it to snap and break away to the ground. Then, she just stands in front of the shower, her chest heaving in and out, fighting the urge to smash anything that her hands might grab.

But the urge overpowers her, and she knocks jars and glasses down onto the tiles harshly.

She finds herself in the kitchen opening a bottle of beer seconds later. She presses it to her mouth and swallows several large mouthfuls before she exhales heavily and closes her eyes.

Tiffany thinks of what they had, and what they could have had if she had been more careful, and she tosses the half full bottle against the floor.

It smashes into sharp shards.

She lifts her hands to her forehead and claws at her hair, holding her hands to her face for a moment as she tries to steady her breathing. She shuts her eyes and exhales heavily, remaining this way for quite some time – only until she hears a knocking on the downstairs door of the studio.

She ignores it.

"Tiffany?" she hears her mother call out.

Tiffany bites down on her bottom lip and opens her eyes.

"I'm busy." she shouts back.

But she knows her mother won't go away, especially now that Tiffany said she was busy and her mother knows what _that_ used to mean.

She sighs again and moves quickly down the stairs, angrily brushing away her tears as she does. She halts before she reaches the door and readjusts her hair in the mirror so it doesn't seem so messy, so unkempt. Then, she steps through the first door and moves towards the front door.

Tiffany opens the door to find her mother standing before her, a smile on her face, a tray with tea and biscuits in front of her.

"I thought you might be hungry, Tiff." she smiles.

Tiffany pauses. "I have food in here."

"I know you do, sweetheart. But not enough."

"I'm fine, mom. You don't have to check in on me." Tiffany answers. "I don't have anyone else in here, if that's what you're-"

"That's not why I'm here, sweetie." she answers. "Can I come in?"

Tiffany considers her mother's words before she shakes her head, remembering the shattered beer bottle, broken glass in the bathroom and the torn curtains.

"Why don't I come inside?" Tiffany suggests, stepping forward.

"To the house." she adds, and then smiles convincingly.

Her mother nods. "Okay." she smiles.

Tiffany follows her mother inside to the house, careful to shut the door to her place behind her. They eat and drink tea inside, barely sharing a few words. Her mother talks the most, talking about everything and anything that doesn't involve or include Pat.

Tiffany brings Pat up.

"How's Pat doing?" she asks.

Her mother hesitates. "Tiffany..."

"Mom, come on."

She sighs. "He's doing okay. Dolores said he was back on his medication, and that he's resting."

Tiffany nods and bites down on her bottom lip.

"He just needs time, Tiffany." her mother promises her, smiling kindly as she does. "That's all."

"Yeah, well.." Tiffany sighs, standing from the table. "He can take all the time he needs."

* * *

_**Two weeks later.**_

Two weeks of calm, resting, and returning to a normal routine passes Pat by so slowly. The days dragged on, but he is thankful that with every passing day as a feeling and sense of normalcy begins to return to him. He visits Cliff when he is scheduled to and requires no additional and no special visits or meetings. He avoids the diner still, not only because his father still doesn't want him there but because he doesn't want to go there until he is sure he is better.

His parents work constantly at the diner, giving Pat his well needed space, but they still return often in the day to check on him. Jake stops by more frequently than he ever did before, and makes excuses to spend time with Pat. He suggests that they go for a run, which Pat refuses and says he likes to run by himself.

Jake doesn't push him to run, and instead suggests that they go to the movies, or do something together and they do spend some time together – even if it is just resting on the couch and watching television together.

Pat fights his thoughts and ideas constantly, which revolve mostly around Tiffany. It has been far too long since he has seen her, or heard her voice, and Pat is aching to see her. He often finds himself running near her house, or taking a familiar route that they once ran together, and once the realization of where and who he is headed towards he stops, turns, and quickly runs the other way.

He wants to see her, with all of his heart and soul, but there are so many things keeping him from her house, keeping him from asking about her whenever Ronnie comes over.

He wants to give her time and space, because she deserves it. He doesn't know if she is ready to see him again, and he doesn't know if he is ready to see her. He wants to, but they left things badly.

He shouted at her, swore at her, and left.

He left without an explanation because he didn't have one, and he left her feeling guilty for something that was never her fault. It was his fault, and he knows that she blames herself and Pat doesn't know how he can face her without feeling guilty for making her feel this way.

Pat returns home sweating, dresses in baggy clothes and carrying a football. He tosses the football down against the floor and enters the living room to find Jake inside.

"How was the run?" Jake looks up from the paper.

"How's Tiffany?" Pat blurts out.

Jake frowns. "What?"

"How's Tiffany doing?" Pat asks.

Jake seems uncertain, because it's been so long since Pat asked about Tiffany.

"Good, I think." Jake replies slowly, standing from the chair. "Why? Did you go to see her?"

"No. Wait – Why did you ask that? Why are you looking like that? If I want to go see Tiffany, I can. This isn't like the Nikki situation. This isn't the fucking Nikki and restraining order situation. I'll see her if I want to." Pat unintentionally bites back.

"Whoa, brother!" Jake holds his hands up in the air. "I'm just asking because I think it'd be good."

A frown crosses Pat's face.

"What?" he asks, with a quieter voice.

"Tiffany's been doing good. She's been going out with Clare, and spending time with Veronica. She's dancing a bit, and running – and you. Look at you. You're doing great, brother. You're running, you're eating healthy, you're on your medications and you're seeing Cliff. You're good."

"Pop doesn't think so." Pat sighs.

"He's waiting for you to prove it."

Pat frowns. "How?"

"I don't know, he's waiting for you to show him something. To show him a sign that you're better, that you're not just pretending." Jake sighs.

"I'm not pretending, I'm not. I'm good. I think. Now, I'm doubting myself...But I feel good. I feel better than I did." Pat answers.

Jake watches Pat carefully. "Look, Pat..Just.."

"What I did was stupid. Okay? It was a stupid lapse. And...I got nothing but love for you, brother. I shouldn't have spoken to you like that, and I'm sorry." Pat says quietly.

Jake smiles and embraces Pa, who hugs him back and holds him tightly.

"I'm sorry, Jake." Pat nearly whispers.

Jake pats him on the back. "You're good now, brother. That's what counts."

"Thanks." Pat pulls away, a real and genuine smile on his face. "Thank you, brother, for...For showing me that I can count you, always. You can always count on me, too. I'm just.."

"I know." Jake smiles. "That's what brothers do. We count on each other."

* * *

After spending the afternoon stretching downstairs in the studio and doing some basic moves, Tiffany had returned upstairs and showered, changing into a pair of brown pants and a long blue shirt. She had stepped out of the shower, dressed in these warm clothes, with the intention to curl up on the couch and watch a film.

But just as she had settled on the couch, a loud knock on the door called her away.

She sat still and pretend to ignore it, until it become louder and more repetitive.

"Coming!" she calls out loudly.

She moves quickly down the stairs, and once she reaches the front door she opens it and finds nothing, until she looks down and finds a white envelope. It isn't addressed to anyone, but she only assumes that because it was dropped at her door it was intended to her.

"Pat?" Tiffany calls out with hope.

She receives no response.

She takes several steps forward and looks around for Pat, but doesn't find him. She convinces herself that it wasn't him, and that the envelope is probably junk mail. She steps back inside and locks the door, holding the envelope tightly in her hands.

She steps inside the studio and begins to slowly open the envelope. She pulls out a folded piece of paper and opens it so she can read it.

Her breathing hitches after she reads the first two words; _Dearest, Tiffany._

It's from Pat.

She closes her eyes and pauses, before she moves towards the stairs with the intention of moving to the couch. She doesn't make it to the couch, and instead moves to the staircase and sits down on the bottom step. Tiffany shuts the letter and hesitates, finding that she is suddenly so nervous and worried about what it is that the letter holds and why he has chosen today, after two weeks, to write to her.

She unfolds it and starts again.

_Dearest Tiffany,_

_I miss you so much. I can't stop thinking about you, and about how and what it is you are doing. How are you doing? I hope that you are well. Jake told me that you and Clare have been getting to know each other, and that you have been meeting up and spending time together. Jake also said that the two of you were becoming good friends and I think that is really great. You are an amazing person, and so you deserve equally amazing friends, and I've only ever heard and thought good things about Clare. She seems like a good person, like you. And like I said, I'm happy for you even if I'm not happy without you. I'm sorry, that wasn't supposed to make you feel guilty. I don't want that ever. You have no reason to feel guilty. I just wanted to let you know that I haven't been as happy as I was with you. I miss you more than I ever thought was possible to miss one person. I want to start again but I don't know if that is possible. I don't know where we go from here, or if you want to go anywhere from here, but I think we need to meet and talk about all of this. I don't know what talking will do or mean for us but I do know that I have to see you. You deserve more than I can say in this letter. If you're interested in talking, I'll be at my family's diner tomorrow night at nine thirty. I hope to see you there. _

_Love always, _

_Pat._

* * *

After spending several hours upstairs in his room read, Pat ventures downstairs and stops as he reaches the bottom of the staircase; a letter has been pushed underneath the door and now rests on the floor.

He all but dives for it, nearly ripping the envelope as he quickly opens it.

Pat releases a sigh as his eyes skim over the letters.

_Dearest Pat,_

_Thank you for your letter. I miss you too. I'm well, and I hope that you are also well. Clare and I have been spending some time together, and you're right when you say that she is a good person – like you. Jake said that you are eating healthy, exercising frequently, and that you are not only back on your recommended dosage of medication but are also visiting Cliff. That's great, Pat. I'm so proud of you. Jake said you might be working at the diner soon, and I think that will be really great for you. Your family is just as proud of you as I am. Please, continue to care for yourself. Your family love you and only want what's best for you, remember that._

_Of course I'm interested in meeting with you, Pat. I'll be at the diner at nine thirty tomorrow night. See you then._

_All my love,_

_Tiffany._

* * *

**A/N: Hi all! I apologise for the lateness of this update, and hope you enjoy it and like where it is headed. Thank you for reading my story.**

**Guest review:**

**Sarah Bledsoe 7/7/13 . chapter 13: **Hi, Sarah Bledsoe :) Thank you very much for reading my story, I'm very glad to see that you are enjoying it and hope that you like this new update. I have plans to continue this story for a very long time, as I have a lot of ideas planned. Thank you, again, for reading it and showing an interest - it means a lot to me. Enjoy. x

**Thanks for reading  
X**


	15. Silver past

**Disclaimer: Silver Linings Playbook is copyright to Matthew Quick and David O Russel. All Rights Reserved. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made. I claim and own nothing.**

* * *

Pat enters the diner for the first time to find his father, mother, brother and Danny inside. They greet him warmly, but also with confusion because he wasn't supposed to be here. Pat Sr. takes Pat on a tour, for most of which he is silent. He is silently in awe of how great it looks and how it was everything he had imagined it would be and more.

Long and comfortable booths and seats, warm and bright lights, large windows, and walls where hundreds of photographs hang; photographs of football games, of family memories, of everything that Pat has wanted to see and be reminded of.

Finally, when he is led towards the counter he smiles and stops, picturing Tiffany behind the long polished bench, working on the register and serving customers around the long U Shaped bench. He steps behind the counter and leans through the gap where plates and orders are placed.

Pat peers in and sees Jake, Danny and Dolores finishing up for the night.

"So, what do you think?" Pat Sr. asks.

Pat turns around and smiles at his father. "I think it's...It's amazing, pop. It is. It's just- I wish I could have come sooner. It's so beautiful."

"What matters is that you're here now. And, you know..We only have it because of you, and Tiffany." Pat Sr. answers.

Pat smiles. "Like I said, it's great, pop. Is it busy in the day?"

Pat Sr. nods. "Mostly. We shut it early tonight, because Jake told us you were meeting Tiffany here."

Pat sighs and shoots a look back into the kitchen, which Jake has just stepped out of.

"He also told me that you're planning to go stay with your cousin, Damien, for a little while. What sparked that?" Pat Sr. asks.

Pat shifts in his stance. "You know...He lives on that farm, and it's so peaceful there. It just felt right. You know?"

"Whatever you have to do, Pat, as long as you are sure that it's what you have and want to do." Pat Sr. answers.

"Yeah," Pat nods. "Sure. I mean, it'll be good and I'll be giving all of you space, right? Good for all of us."

"Pat..." Pat Sr. sighs.

Pat checks the clock on the wall and turns back to his father.

"Can we talk about this tonight? Tiffany will be here any moment, and I kind of wanted to talk to her alone." Pat questions.

Jake nods. "Sure."

"Alright," Pat Sr. smiles. "See you tonight."

"Bye, Patty." Dolores smiles, as she follows Jake outside.

"Pat!" Danny exclaims. "I miss you, man. I do. We have to catch up."

"Will do." Pat nods enthusiastically. "See you soon, man!"

"I'll catch you later?" Danny smiles. "Yeah?"

Pat returns the smile. "Yeah, sure! We'll catch up soon, man!"

Pat Sr. reaches for the keys in his pocket and hands them out to Pat.

"Don't forget to lock up, okay?" Pat Sr. says sternly. "I'm trusting you, Pat. You have to lock up."

Pat sighs and shoves the keys into his pocket. "I'm fine, pop. I'll lock it up, I swear."

"Alright." Pat Sr. lifts a hand and pats him on the shoulder. "See you when you get home."

"Yeah," Pat nods. "See you."

On her walk down towards the diner, Tiffany thinks of all the things that she and Pat said, and all that they never said. She thinks mostly of tonight and what words their conversations will hold and how it will go. She can't pretend that she's not nervous, because she is. For some strange reason, she is nervous about seeing Pat again.

It's been so long, too long, and their last conversation didn't go so well. Their second last conversation started with Tiffany pelting rocks through his window, and that didn't turn out too good. She was fooled by his smiled, by his words, by the mask he put up.

She exhales heavily into the frosty night and pulls her trench-coat further around herself. She walks steadily but slowly towards the diner, to give herself time to think but she soon finds herself only footsteps away from the diner door without a clear thought in her mind.

Tiffany shuts her eyes and curses herself silently, she doesn't know what to say or where to begin with Pat. She starts with opening the front door, and stepping through it. The diner is lit brightly and looks great.

She finds Pat resting against one of the stools at the counter, a piece of paper and a key set out on the bench before him.

The bell above the door rings as she opens it and he glances up.

He smiles at her kindly, widely, like nothing ever happened between them, like they were always good.

"Hey." Tiffany places her hands by her side.

She steps slowly inside the diner.

He stands quickly from the stool and turns completely towards her, she looks over his green hoodie and baggy blue pants before she looks up to finally meet his eyes.

She finally smiles.

"Hi." he smiles right back at her.

He doesn't hesitate, doesn't think on it, doesn't falter, and moves towards her. Pat pulls Tiffany into his arms to embrace her tightly, to show her how he loves her so and how he missed her more than he thought possible. He wraps her tightly inside his arms, she leans against his chest and places her hands against his back.

They hold each other for several long and quiet minutes.

Pat breaks the silence.

"God, this feels great." he whispers in her ear, his arms still around her. "I missed you."

Tiffany breaks the embrace.

She pulls out of his arms and takes a slight step back, no smile on her face any more.

"Yeah," Tiffany nods. "I missed you too."

Pat pauses before he shifts nervously. "You, er, you hungry?"

She shakes her head. "No, Pat. I ate already."

He smiles. "Okay, sorry."

Tiffany bites down on her bottom lip as Pat releases a somewhat nervous sigh. She drops her hands to her side and laughs.

"God, why are we doing this?" she lifts her hand and scratches at her forehead. "We're...Weird. Nervous, almost. We shouldn't be, we weren't before this."

"I know, I know.. It's just been...A long time." he says quietly.

Tiffany agrees and nods, remaining silent.

"I don't know where to start." Pat admits, inching closer towards her. "I missed you so much."

"Er..." Tiffany tucks her hair behind her ear, and sighs. "Jake said you were doing good."

Pat nods quickly. "I am. I think that I am. I'm eating healthy."

"Good." she says quietly.

"Exercising a lot, visiting Cliff – and I'm back on my medication. Completely. I haven't slipped up for three weeks." he announces.

"That's good, Pat." Tiffany says. "That's great. I'm happy for you."

He pauses before looking around the diner. "The diner's great, isn't it?"

A slight frown creeps across her face, but she nods still. "Uh, yeah, it is."

"You should work here," he blurts out. "You should. I can see you in here, when I look behind the counter. Or I can see you over here..." he moves towards one of the closer tables. "Serving customers."

"Pat." Tiffany says simply.

He turns towards her and looks at her closely, finding that she looks tired and worn almost.

"What's wrong?" a deeper frown crosses his face.

He moves quickly to her side. "Did something happen?"

"What?" she frowns now.

"You look...Different." Pat observes, still watching her closely.

"I'm just tired, Pat." she says.

"Why? You haven't been sleeping well lately?" he asks.

She shakes her head. "No. Not really."

He remains silent and still, and continues to watch her closely, she reaches into one of the pockets of her trench-coat and pulls out a folded piece of paper.

"You said..." she unfolds it. "We need to meet and talk about all of this. We need to talk about us, not about the diner."

"Mhm." he nods. "I know."

"You also said that you don't know what it will mean, us talking.." she says.

He continues to nod. "If you read a little further on...I also said I'd like to start again."

She pauses notably.

"Do you want that?" Pat asks.

"What?" she frowns slightly.

"Do you want to start again?" he asks, vulnerability and fear slipping through his voice and echoing into the silence.

"Of course I do, Pat." Tiffany answers, without a doubt. "I just...I don't know..."

"You need more time," he sighs, "I can give you that."

"I don't need more time, Pat. I've had three weeks, I was..I don't know. Without you, I felt like I was.." she starts.

"What?" he asks.

"Nothing." she shakes her head once, shoving the paper back inside her pocket.

"Tiffany." he pushes.

She looks up. "I thought we were meeting to discuss us."

"We are." he says.

She bites down on her bottom lip before she releases a shaky sigh.

"Tiff..."

"I don't know how to fix this, Pat." she blurts out. "I've thought it over, and over, in my mind and I know that what we have is worth it. I know what we have is worth fighting for, but I don't know how. I don't know where to start."

"Okay." Pat says finally. "Why don't we start one thing at a time?"

Tiffany crosses her arms. "Okay, we'll start with one thing at a time."

He nods. "Good."

"Why couldn't you talk to me?" she asks immediately.

Pat doesn't falter.

"About what was going on with you, about how you felt useless." she steps closer. "Why couldn't you come to me?"

"It was hard for me to face, Tiffany." he honestly answers. "I didn't want to face it. I didn't. It was difficult. Okay? It had nothing to do with you. It was just hard..."

"But with me it shouldn't be," Tiffany sighs and lifts her hand to her creased forehead. "With me, it shouldn't be like that. It should be easy. You should come to me, and talk to me about everything, Pat. I want to know it. I could have helped you."

"I didn't think that I needed it, okay? I realize now that I was wrong. Okay? But what you need to also realize, Tiffany, is that this is who I am and I will probably lapse again in the future. Or I will go through another depression, and I might not be able to tell you about it and you'll just have to trust that I might come through it. There's no guarantee with me, Tiff, or with you. Or with life. There aren't any guarantees. Ever." he answers.

She nods in agreement. "No, I know that. I know there aren't guarantees, Pat, but I felt helpless, Pat. All I wanted was to be there for you, that's all..."

"I'm sorry, Tiff. I am. All the stuff that I said, and I did, I'm sorry." he inches closer, his face contorted with sadness. "I'm so sorry.

Tiffany presses her lips together tightly and nods.

"Tiff..." he sighs.

She smiles sadly. "I know you're sorry, Pat. I know it, but I don't want an apology. I never did. I just wanted you. That was all that I wanted."

He steps towards her and takes her hands, holding them tightly in his own.

"You still have me, you always have."

She shakes her head and drops her gaze. "I don't know, Pat."

"You don't know what?" he asks.

She looks up slowly. "I thought we were strong together, but you just...We felt good, we were happy, after the dance competition but what if it wasn't real? What if it all was just a...A wave of exhilaration, of acceptance-"

Pat drops her hands. "How can you say that? How can you question if it was real? Of course it's real, Tiffany. Of course it is. I love you. I do. I always have, right from the start. So, please, don't say that because it's not true."

"I didn't say it wasn't real, Pat, I was just having doubts." she quickly corrects herself.

"I understand that." he answers. "Tell me what you need, Tiffany? Tell me what I can do?"

"Tell me the truth, Pat. Tell me what was going on – all of it. I want to know it all." she pushes.

"I can't give you all of it, because I still don't really know it myself. All I know is one moment, we were okay and the next it spiraled out into...A mess. And I was just back in a place where I didn't want to be. But I'm better, again." Pat says.

Her eyes burn with the threat of tears. "Because of me."

And she isn't asking, but rather stating what she believes to be true, saying what she believes was the cause of his lapse.

"What?" he frowns. "No, no, no. Not because of you. It wasn't you."

"Pat. Come on, that's bullshit." she answers, angrily wiping away a fallen tear from her cheek. "I fucked up us, and I just messed up-"

He shakes his head. "No, you can't blame yourself for something you didn't do. You didn't cause this. Don't blame yourself."

Tiffany pauses noticeably. "Who do you blame, Pat?"

"What, who do I blame?" he asks.

"Yes. Who?" she asks.

He doesn't even have to consider it.

"Myself." he answers.

"You shouldn't, Pat. You think it's unfair to blame me? Well, it's not. You can, because I pushed you to do things and I was just fucking inconsiderate, and I was-"

"What is this about?" he asks.

"It was the little things, Pat, that built up into something bigger. That's how this started." she answers.

He shakes his head. "I don't blame you."

She sniffles before she straightens herself up and meets his gaze. "Tell me what you need."

"What?" he frowns.

"Tell me what you need, Pat. From me, or to fix this..." Tiffany instructs.

He inches closer, his eyes never straying away from hers. "Just you. I need you. I need for us to go back to how we were, because I was happy. You make me happy, Tiff. More than I've ever been in my life. Happier than I ever was with Nikki."

Tiffany drops her head slightly and exhales loudly, before she curses under her breath.

"This is it." she sighs.

"What?" he frowns.

"You.."

"What?" Pat replies, uncertainly.

"When I blame myself, I look at what I did." she admits.

"Yeah? What, I don't understand?" he shrugs, a frown lingering on his face.

"We showered together, Pat." Tiffany says finally. "It was my suggestion...I forgot about Nikki and that teacher with fucking tenure."

He stays still, remains upright, and keeps his mouth closed as she continues.

"I said we would never have children, like Nikki told you that." she continues. "And by...This – This fucking diner. We would have been working together, like you and Nikki used to. I was making the same fucking mistakes and errors-"

"Hey..." his voice is softer. "You didn't-"

"I did, Pat." she cuts across him. "I've thought about it, over and over-"

"And I'm telling you that is bullshit. You didn't make the same mistakes as Nikki." he answers honestly.

"No, you're right. Not intentionally, anyway. But it happened...Like, with that guy that-" she begins.

"Hurt you? That's not relevant, Tiffany." he shakes his head. "I don't want to think about that, or him, because that is a part of my life that I would like to forget."

"I think it is relevant." she disagrees.

Pat steps closer, his voice is softer as he speaks.

"Listen, okay? Just listen to me. I don't give a fuck about that guy, or about the fucking teacher with tenure and Nikki – she's not relevant to me anymore. She's never going to be a part of my life again. You are a part of my life. You're my life, Tiffany. That's it. It's just you and me, that's how I want it. I want you."

"I want you too, Pat." she answers.

"Do you trust me?" he asks.

"I do." she nods. "Unquestionably."

"Then believe me when I say that it wasn't you," he replies. "Okay? It wasn't your fault."

"I believe that, and then I look at you – " Tiffany sighs. "And I can just see everything that I did wrong."

"You didn't do anything wrong." Pat snaps back.

She shakes her head with disbelief. "I want to be good for you, but I don't think that I am."

"What the fuck, Tiffany?" he snaps back. "You are the best thing that has ever happened to me, and probably ever will happen to me."

"That doesn't mean I'm good for you, Pat. It doesn't mean I'm not fucking this up. Just because you see me as good – that doesn't-"

"Stop it." he cuts across her loudly. "Stop."

"I can't." she shakes her head. "You are such a good person-"

"Stop it, Tiffany." he speaks over her loudly. "You have a great heart. You do. You are beautiful on the inside, and you're kind, and you have been the most important thing to me since the first day that I met you. I love you, and only you. Whatever comes our way, I know we can deal with it. I know that we can tackle it. I believe in us, and I believe in you."

"What if we can't?" she asks.

"Look, I don't know what else – I'm going to give you time, okay? Because obviously you're still undecided, and you need time."

"Pat." she catches his hand, as he moves to step past her.

He allows her to hold his hand as he turns towards her, his eyes wide and expecting, waiting for her to continue.

"I just need to know..." she starts quietly.

"What?" he asks.

"I don't want.."

"What, Tiffany?" he pushes. "What don't you want?"

"I don't want us to turn out like you and Nikki." Tiffany admits, finally meeting his unwavering gaze.

"What?" he frowns.

"I don't want you to..."

Pat shifts slightly, but continues to hold her hand. "You don't want me to, what?"

"To stop loving me." she says finally.

"Never." he shakes his head. "That could never happen. It's not possible. That's impossible."

She pulls him into an embrace and hugs him tightly.

"You're the best thing that has happened to me in so long." she whispers in his ear.

He settles his hands down against her back and pulls her into his chest, allowing her to lean against him entirely.

"You are and I don't want to fuck this up." she admits.

He presses a kiss down on the top of my head. "You are...The love of my life. You won't lose me."

Tiffany pulls back and manages a small smile.

"There it is," he breaks out with a smile. "I missed that smile. God, you're so beautiful. I missed you so much."

Tiffany places her hands against his cheeks gently, soothing his skin as she does.

"I missed you too." she whispers, before she presses a soft kiss against his lips.

He pulls her in, placing his hands around her waist, and kisses her back gently, but with a passion that shows her how he missed her, and how he loves her so.

When they break away, she leans her head against his and releases a sigh.

"Do you think we can go back?" she asks.

He holds her tightly still around her waist, while her hands remain draped around his neck.

"To how we were...before." she adds.

"No," he answers honestly. "But we can move forward, and we can be better. Happier."

"Do you think so?" she looks up slowly, a glisten of hope flickering in her eyes.

He can't help but smile. "Yeah, I do. We deserve to, and I know what we can start with."

* * *

After locking up the diner they walk at slow and steady pace towards Tiffany's. Their hands find each other, intertwining immediately, and Tiffany leans into Pat's chest as they walk the familiar path to her house.

There is a lot of silence on this walk, but it is comfortable, and they are enjoying the company of being together again after all the time that they spent apart. They are both sick of spending time away from each other, they are so much happier and better together, life is better when they are together.

"You okay?" Pat asks quietly.

She looks up to him and smiles, his insides flutter at this sight.

"Yeah." she nods. "You?"

"Me?" he asks. "I'm more than okay, I'm great."

They return to their silence until they reach her place, and Pat announces that he's going to dart inside and see her parents.

"I mean..I know they would have missed me, because I am the son they never had." he teases.

She shoves him away, but the smile forms on her face. "Whatever."

"I'll be right back - but I mean, they might just invite me to have tea, or something, so I don't know how long I'll be." he smiles playfully.

"Just go." she shakes her head and unlocks the door.

"I'll be right back!" he calls out, as he runs towards the house.

"Mm." she nods, watching after him as he runs inside.

After greeting Tiffany's parents, who welcome him with a smile, friendly conversation, and open arms, he returns to her place and shuts the door behind him. He enters the studio slowly, flashes of memories returning to him.

He remembers dancing with her the first time, or the last time they danced together.

It was a beautiful night, a night he'll never forget, and he wants to go back to it, he wants to go back to being with her. He wants to return to the morning when they woke up together, and instead of leaving he wants to hold her for hours, and talk with her, he wants to make her smile and laugh.

She returns downstairs in a shot black top, black tights and pink dance shoes.

"Everything okay?" she smiles.

"Yeah, I just got here. Your parents were happy to see the prodigal son returning."

She rolls her eyes. "You ready?"

"I was born ready." he grins.

She scoffs loudly. "The bruises that I got from when you dropped me beg to differ-"

"Hey," he cuts across her." Don't get me started on how fucked my back felt-"

"Okay." she says loudly. "Let's start."

He grins and moves towards her. "Sure."

They warm up first by stretching together slowly, running side to side, legs crossing over each other, and then lastly they run in shapes of eight.

Pat isn't able to stretch as much as he could before, he can't stretch like she can when she goes up on her feet and hands and pushes her stomach up in the air, he can only watch in awe as she does that, but he can still stretch.

They start with light dance moves, after Tiffany presses play on the play-list of songs and the music starts to play.

The hours of the night move quickly.

They dance for a long time, to different songs, using different moves, but basing a lot of their movements and structure from their practices for the competition. Neither can deny how good it feels to be back in the studio dancing together, like nothing bad ever happened between then and now.

It feels like it was always supposed to feel this way, like they were always supposed to feel this good and this happy.

After they have finished, when they are both tired and agree to stop, they find themselves waiting in a long moment of silence.

"You, er..." Tiffany quietly starts.

Pat coughs and clears his throat, before he glances up to find her watching him intently.

"What?" he steps closer.

She laughs and scratches at her forehead. "You want to stay over, tonight?"

"Of course I do." Pat answers quickly. "I mean, I have missed you so much. I want to spend every minute with you..."

"Why do I feel like there's a 'but' coming?..." Tiffany frowns slightly.

"Because there is." he grins. "I just don't want to rush you, and us."

"Well, I want you to stay over." she crosses her arms. "I mean, only if you want."

"You do?" he checks.

"Yeah, I mean..." she sighs.

"What?"

"I missed you." she shrugs.

"Yeah?" he answers.

"God. Are you going to make me spell it out?"

"Spell what out? I don't know- I don't understand-"

"I was really lonely without you, Pat. I don't want to feel that way again. Ever. So, yeah, I'd like it if you could stay over tonight."

He steps towards her and presses a kiss to her forehead, pulling her into his arms as he does.

"You won't feel that way again, I promise." he says.

She looks up at him and smiles. "Good."

Tiffany breaks away from the embrace. "I'm just going to lock up down here, why don't you run up and have a shower?"

"What?" he frowns.

She casts a look over him and grins. "Well, you're kinda sweaty and smelly."

He almost laughs, and points a finger at her. "Says you."

She shoves him forcefully but playfully, he stumbles back towards the stairs.

"Get outta here." she instructs.

He grins and turns to the stairs, his hands held up defensively in the air. "Alright, alright! I'm going."

"Good." she smiles, glancing up after him.

"See you soon." his grin widens.

"See you soon."

* * *

**A/N: ****Hi! Thank you for reading and reviewing my story, I hope you are enjoying it so far and you enjoy where I take it - I still have a lot of ideas for this story, and intend to keep writing it for as long as I can. :)**

**Guest Review:**

**WarriorKitties2 7/25/13 . chapter 14: **Dear, WarriorKitties2 :) (awesome guest username BTW) thank you for reading and reviewing my story, it means a lot to me and I'm happy you think it's great. I will continue this for a very long time. I have lots in store for Pat and Tiffany, and rest of the gang. Thanks for reading, and I hope that you like this new chapter! x

**Sarah 7/20/13 . chapter 14: **Dear, Sarah :) Oh wow, aww thank you so much. That is such a kind and lovely compliment. Thank you so much :-) reading your review definitely made me smile, so thank you. It makes me SO happy to read that you have fun reading it - and I do have so much fun writing it, so I'm glad you are having just as much fun. Pat & Tiffany are one of my favourite couples from a movie too. I promise, there are good things to come and they will start happening next chapter. Thank you for reading my story, and reviewing. I truly appreciate it. Enjoy this new one. :) x

**Also a special thanks to & Pokefreak17 for their kind and enthusiastic reviews of chapter 14. :)**

**Thanks again for reading, and enjoy!**

**x**


	16. Silver future

**Disclaimer: Silver Linings Playbook is copyright to Matthew Quick and David O Russel. All Rights Reserved. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made. I claim and own nothing.**

* * *

Pat's eyes quickly skim over the contents of the car, silently marking off a check-list in his head. He counts the numbers of bags twice, before he turns and moves quickly towards the front door. Laughter and the sound of people talking echoes from the dining room, and he enters to find Tiffany sitting at the table with Dolores, Jake and Danny.

"You ready to go?" Pat calls out, unable to fight the grin that spreads over his face.

She looks up and half smiles. "I've almost finished my tea."

Pat sighs loudly, and fights the urge to roll his eyes because they should have left over an hour ago.

"We're late. Do you know that? I hope you do, because we're late." he says loudly.

Tiffany shares a brief look with Pat Sr., who has just entered the room, before she sighs and meets Pat's intent gaze. She crosses her arms, and holds his steady and unwavering gaze for a moment longer.

"If you speak to me like that, I don't want to go." she announces.

Pat pauses notably, taking a moment to breathe out heavily.

"Oh, come on. Don't say that." Pat runs his hands through his hair. "How could you say that? Of course you want to go. It's going to be amazing. I promised you that, didn't I?"

Tiffany almost pouts. "You were speaking to me like I was stupid and didn't know how late we were."

A frown darts over Pat's features. "I wasn't. I was not. You're not stupid, Tiffany. You're incredibly smart, and incredible, and I didn't speak to you like that."

"Uh, yeah, Pat. You were." Danny chimes in. "You were bossing her around. You don't treat your woman like that, Patty, especially a woman as great and fine as Tiffany."

"Thanks, Danny." Tiffany smirks.

Her smile widens, and Pat can tell now that she was teasing. He rolls his eyes and shifts in his stance, scratching anxiously at the side of his head.

Pat groans, and releases another loud sigh. "Alright, Danny, well she's my woman so it'd make me feel better if you didn't openly comment on how fine she is. I mean, I know, sure she's fine but it's not the time or place to talk about that. Now, Tiff, come on. Let's go. I'm saying this with love and respect, but we gotta go if we want to be there before-"

"Before it gets late, so we don't miss dinner?" Tiffany asks.

A wild smile breaks out in his lips. "Yes! Exactly. How did you know that?"

Tiffany frowns slightly. "You said it like three times, Pat."

"And I'll say it another three if you don't hurry up." he threatens.

"Don't speak to me like that, or you can go by yourself." she crosses her arms, her dark eyes locking with his.

For a minute, he believes that she is serious but then he catches sight of the smile so obviously playing on his lips and it causes him to relax.

"You know, I was actually about to suggest I go alone since you're taking so long." he teases. "I've packed all of my stuff and yours, had a shower and changed and you were-"

"Okay." Tiffany stands quickly. "Thank you for the tea, Dolores. It was great."

"Don't forget your snacks for the road." Dolores stands, and moves quickly towards the kitchen.

Pat Sr. steps forward, and meets Pat's gaze. "Have you thanked your mother? You better thank your mother, Pat. She's gone to all this trouble to make these snacks for you-"

"Thank you!" Pat calls out, sighing loudly after.

He glances up and find that his father has moved closer towards him, his eyes settled firmly on him.

"You need anything, you know we're just a telephone call away, right? You know that, don't you, Pat?"

"Pop." Pat smiles. "I'm gonna be fine. We both will be. This is what we need, it's going to be great. I'll call, and let you know when we get there."

Pat Sr. releases a deeply held sigh. "Okay. Just...Be nice to your family."

A deeper frown crosses over Pat's features, and he pauses. "What? Aren't I always? What does that mean? When aren't I nice?"

"And don't scratch the car."

"I won't." Pat nods.

Pat Sr. pauses for a brief moment, before he soon pulls Pat into a warm and tight embrace.

"Take care of yourself, Patty." he whispers. "And take care of Tiffany. Don't screw this up, she's a good girl. You deserve each other."

Pat holds his father tighter. "I'm not going to screw it up, but thanks for the vote of confidence-"

"I have confidence in you, Pat. Just...Take care of each other. Okay?"

"Okay." he replies quietly.

"See you in a week." Pat Sr. breaks the hug, wearing a smile on his face. "And have fun."

Pat returns the smile. "See you in a week."

A small smile spreads over Tiffany's face as Dolores hands her a container, filled with various foods and snacks, and then hug hers tightly.

"Thank you, Dolores." Tiffany whispers. "You really didn't have to go to all of this trouble."

"I didn't want you to go hungry on the drive there." Dolores answers softly, gently rubbing her back. "I couldn't have that happen to you two."

"We won't." Tiffany assures her.

"Look after my boy, Tiffany. And look after yourself."

"I will." she smiles, and breaks away.

"Have a good time." Jake smiles, before embracing Tiffany.

"I will." she smiles.

"See you soon, man." Pat hugs Danny. "When I get back, I'll be at the diner. We'll be working together, and it's going to be amazing. I know it. It is, isn't it?"

"Damn right it's going to be amazing." Danny smiles. "Gonna miss you, man. Take it easy."

"Will do." Pat smiles. "Take it easy too."

He pats Danny on the back once more, before he pulls away and embraces Dolores who presses a kiss to his cheek and whispers in his ear to take it easy, and take care of Tiffany.

"Have a great time, Tiffany." Pat Sr. smiles, pulling back from their embrace. "You'll like it down there."

Tiffany nods, her smile remains. "I hope so."

Seconds later, Pat reaches out for Tiffany's hand and intertwines his fingers with her. She glances up, obviously surprised by this, but smiles softly at him as she believes that it's just another romantic gesture of his.

But it isn't.

"This is the _only _way to make sure to get you to the car. To lead you there myself." he announces, pulling her quickly towards the door.

"Oh! And here I was thinking it was some sort of sweet gesture-" Tiffany begins to shout.

"Drive safely!" Dolores calls out. "If you get tired, take turns or have a rest. Be safe!"

Pat pulls Tiffany out the front door, despite that she still struggles to break free of his hold. He glances back, and finds his parents, Danny and Jake gathered at the open door.

"Ma, we'll be fine." Pat shouts out.

"Make sure you call at a reasonable hour!" Pat Sr. calls back loudly, a smile still resting on his face. "And enjoy it! Be nice to your family, Pat!"

"Have fun." Danny calls out.

"See you guys!" Jake says. "Take it easy!"

"Say hello to the family for us!" Pat Sr. yells.

Dolores smiles. "Give them our love."

"We will!" Pat says, opening the door so Tiffany can get in.

She releases his hand and slides into the passenger seat, watching silently as Pat runs around to the driver's side. He gets in, shuts the door, and waves at his family. Tiffany waves at them when Pat pulls the car out on the road.

He pauses, turning to her with a smile on his face already. "You sure you want to do this?"

She nods. "I'm sure."

"Because once we leave-"

"I know, there's no turning back and I'm stuck with you for a week." she sighs.

"So, you're sure?" he checks once more.

Tiffany nods eagerly, and throws him a smile. "Of course I am, Pat. Let's go, we wouldn't want to miss dinner."

Pat grins and casts one last look at his family, who continue to wave, before he pulls the car out and begins to drive away.

"Are you sure about this?" Tiffany asks.

"Am I sure?" Pat replies.

She simply nods.

"I am. Of course I'm sure, it's going to be great." his grin remains.

Tiffany sighs and looks out of the window. "So, you don't care that you're going to miss work?"

"Nope." he responds. "I haven't had an official shift yet, so I'm not missing much. There's plenty of time for that when I get back."

"Good." she answers with a surprising quietness to her voice.

Pat casts a side glance over her, watching as she runs her hands down her black jeans. He observes her doing this for another moment, before he speaks up.

"What you doing there, Tiff?" he asks softly.

Tiffany frowns and looks up at him. "What?"

"What?" he answers.

"What do you mean, what am I doing?" her frown deepens. "I'm just sitting here."

"You're rubbing your hands on your pants."

Tiffany almost laughs. "Since when aren't I allowed-"

"You can do whatever you want, Tiff. I'm just asking."

"Technically, I can't do anything I want because there are laws." she half smiles. "But last time I checked, I was allowed to run my hands down my pants."

He shakes his head. "What were you doing that for? Rubbing your hands on-"

"I was making sure they were neat." she snaps.

"Neat? Of course they're neat. Why were..." Pat begins, falling silent as it dawns on him. "Are you nervous?"

He casts another look at her, watching as a smile plays on her lips.

"Nervous?! About what, Pat?" she answers quickly. "I'm not nervous."

"About meeting my family?" he lifts an eyebrow. "You are."

Tiffany bites down on her bottom lip, before she exhales deeply.

"No, I'm not nervous...I'm just..."

"Nervous." he grins.

"No." she snaps, fighting the urge to him in the shoulder. "I'm not nervous, so quit saying it."

Pat shrugs, and focuses his attention back on the road.

"It's natural to be nervous." he murmurs.

"Really?" she speaks up a minute later, her eyes wandering back towards him.

"Really, Tiff."

"Well, it's just..." Tiffany pauses, sighing heavily. "It's kind of a big deal."

"What?"

"Meeting your family."

Pat scoffs. "You've met my family."

"Yeah, I met your parents and Jake. But no one outside of that..." she counters quickly. "So, yeah, it's kind of a big deal."

Pat disagrees, and shakes his head. "It's not a big deal."

"Yeah, that's easy for you to say. You know them." her voice rises. "Can we drop this?"

Pat almost drops it, and then he hits another realization.

"Is that why you were putting this off?" he asks. "You were nervous-"

"No. I wasn't putting it off, I was enjoying my tea." she says quickly.

"Mm." Pat mumbles. "Tiff. Come on, you're incredible. They're going to love you, you have nothing to be nervous about."

"What if they don't?"

"What?" a frown crosses over his face.

She shrugs, and looks back out the window. "I don't want them to."

"What?" he asks quietly.

"I don't need them to love me. I just..." she stops suddenly, and begins playing with her hands.

"You want them to like you?" he asks her.

"Yeah," Tiffany sighs heavily. "I mean, I don't care...But it would be nice."

"Come on, Tiff. Trust me. I know you, and I know them, and they'll like you."

She turns to him again, worry etched into her features, and releases another sigh.

"Talk to me about them again, please, Pat. I don't want to forget their names when I get there."

"Damien is my cousin. So, that's my Pop's nep-" he begins.

"I know. I meant tell me their names and stuff, Pat."

"Okay, so there's my cousin Damien and his wife Danielle – and they have four children. No, sorry, they have five. They just had their fifth. Okay, so there's Angie, Anna, Christine, Timothy and Liam. They all live on the farm together, and my Uncle and Aunty, Al and Nora, live there too." Pat says loudly, a smile spreading on his lips at the thought of them all.

"Wow." Tiffany pauses. "All under the one roof?"

"All under the one roof." Pat nods. "Why?"

"Are we going to fit?" she asks.

Pat frowns slightly. "Of course we're going to fit. The house is big. It's huge."

"There are nine people living there already, Pat. Are you sure there's going to be room?"

"Trust me, it's huge." he answers loudly.

But Pat doesn't receive an answer, instead Tiffany sighs and looks back out the window. He watches her quietly for a moment, and she doesn't take any notice of him, and he can't help but suddenly think about how difficult this all must be for her.

Tommy would have taken her home to his family. She would have met them all, and they would have been close, but now she doesn't talk about them. She doesn't mention them, and Pat doesn't want to push her to talk about them, but he now seems to understand why she is so nervous.

He keeps one hand on the wheel, and stretches out for her hand. Once he reaches it, she turns to him. Pat smiles and squeezes her hand tightly.

"It's going to be fine. They'll love you, like I do. Well, hopefully not like I do. But they'll love you. I know it. You're great." he smiles kindly.

Tiffany bites down on her bottom lip, and nods quickly in response to his words.

"Okay." she says finally.

"Okay?"

"I'll stop stressing." she sighs.

"Good," he answers. "Because you don't have any reason to be stressed...And I know, this was sort of sprung on you last minute it-"

"You told me yesterday." Tiffany shoots him a look. "So, yeah, it was last minute and the way you asked with those damn puppy dog eyes-"

"I did not have puppy dog eyes." Pat fights a laugh. "I waited so long to tell you because I didn't want to make you feel like you had to come, you know, since we're just sort of getting back to...Being good, to how we were."

"Yeah, well, I wanted to come. A break will be nice." she releases his hand, and then settles her hands down against her knees. "Hopefully."

"It will be." he promises, watching her silently.

"You don't think they're going to..." she starts.

"What?"

"Like...Freak out over all your bruises and stuff."

Pat shrugs effortlessly. "The swelling's gone down. It's fine."

"You still look pretty crappy." Tiffany comments.

"Hey!"

"I meant your injuries look crappy. You know you're amazing." she smiles sweetly at him.

"Yeah, yeah. Look, I'm pretty sure Pop would've told them what happened." Pat answers. "But if he didn't, I don't mind explaining it."

Tiffany turns to him quickly, lips parted, eyes widened and set on him.

She waits for him to continue, and he knows what he's talking about.

"To me. About what happened to me, not what happened to you." Pat says slowly, and with an obvious caution. "I learnt my mistake, that's your business not theirs and I'm sorry again for sharing it. I won't repeat that mistake, it wasn't mine to share."

"No, Pat." her forehead creases into a deep frown. "It's not just my business, it's ours."

"Really?"

"Yeah." she nods quickly. "Of course it is. I just think there are some things that we need to keep just between us."

"I know that. I agree. And-"

"It's just..." she sighs.

"What?"

"Look, I just felt weird about telling your family. I thought they would look at me differently."

"But they didn't." Pat answers quickly. "They care about you, so much, Tiffany. My parents keep telling me to take care of you because you're a good girl, you're a keeper, and they're right. They were worried about you when you hit your head, and when we..."

"We're moving forward, that's what matters." Tiffany smiles.

Pat nods eagerly. "As long as I'm with you, I'm okay."

"It's a little too late for sweet lines like that, when you practically dragged me down to the car." her smile falters, and she almost sounds serious.

But he knows she's teasing.

"Hey, you know I was just trying to get us moving faster. I've missed you. You know that, don't you? Fuck, Tiffany. I've missed you so much, I just wanted to spend some time with you." he talks quickly, his enthusiasm about being with her is clear in his voice.

"I missed you too, Pat. And I'm happy we're doing this." Tiffany responds.

"You are?"

"Yeah, I am." she answers softly.

He smiles. "What about your parents?"

"What about them?"

"I didn't get to see them before I left. Were they happy? Or...?" Pat starts.

The beginnings of a frown threaten to form on Tiffany's face. "Why do you care-"

"Of course I care. Your parents are great. I just want to make them happy, considering I'm the son you never had." his eyes remain on the road, but he still catches a look at her.

Tiffany almost laughs. "God, Pat. It sounds like you want to take them out on a date or something."

He frowns now. "Uh...yeah, that's kind of weird to say, Tiff."

"Oh, yeah. Sure! Let's call that weird," she sharply replies. "But you're cool knowing that your Mom saw me nude in the-"

"Alright. Let's call it even?" he cuts over her.

"For now, but it's not over." she smiles widely.

He silently observes her and her beauty for a moment, her curls hang loosely by her side and her soft eyes are swirling with light, and he can't help the smile that spreads over his face just by watching her. Soon enough his smile falters as he takes note of her missing smile and finds her eyes resting on his left hand.

His wedding band's gone.

"Pat." she says quietly.

Pat swallows tightly, and briefly chucks a glance her way. "Yeah, Tiffany? What's up?"

Vulnerability slips through her voice. "Where's your wedding ring?"

Silence follows but doesn't last long.

"Pat, where-" she begins.

"I took it off." he says, frowning at her. "Why do you look?"

"That's a big thing, Pat." she announces suddenly.

Pat breathes out softly. "Yeah, I know it's a big thing but it's a decision I reached on my own. Sure, Cliff and I talked a little about it and all that it signified and ultimately it was my decision to remove it in the end. Well, I never actually put it back on after they took it off me in the hospital.

Tiffany breathes out shakily, sliding her hands back down against the front of her pants.

"What? You look nervous- You're rubbing your pants again." he sighs.

"That's big." she repeats quietly.

"Stop saying that. Why are you saying that? Like you're surprised or something? Fuck, Tiffany, if you don't know by now that I am committed to you for life then I don't know what else to do. I only ever want to be with you. Nothing can ever change that – no one can change that."

She turns to look at him slowly. "You sound so sure."

"I am. Of course I'm sure, I mean...I've always known it, right from the minute I saw you. It was always going to be you, we just took time getting to each other." he says loudly, but with a genuine softness to his voice. "And please, Tiff, don't freak out and think that this is my way of asking you what you're doing with your ring because it's not. It's not that at all. I just wanted to take mine off, because it's a symbol of a person I'm not anymore and a past I don't ever want to be part of again."

"You sound like you're the one freaking out, Pat. I didn't ask you to take it off." she snaps back.

"I'm not, I just don't want to fuck us up.. Okay? And I know you didn't ask me to, but you didn't have to, and honestly I didn't want you to. This was something that I had to decide on my own, and it's decided, and I have no regrets. God. I just don't want to fuck this up again."

"Hey." her voice softens. "You never fucked it up and you're not going to, okay? We're okay, Pat. I promise. I know, there's no pressure and I'm not freaking out. We're good."

"Good." he sighs heavily, but manages a small smile. "Good. That's a relief."

"Just breathe easier, Pat. We're fine. You know I love you, and I'm happy. That's what matters." Tiffany answers quietly.

His smile remains, and spreads further on his face. "I'm happy too. You know I am."

"Great." Tiffany nods. "We deserve to be happy."

Pat pauses, but only for a minute. "So, were your parents happy?"

Tiffany rolls her eyes. "Pat-"

"Just answer." he almost pleads.

She sighs and gives in. "Yes, they like you, a lot. They were happy we were doing this, that we were back together. I guess they were...Oh, I don't know, like worried or something."

"About what?" he asks.

She gives him silence, so he pushes for more, he pushes for an honest answer.

"Tiff, what were they worried about?" he asks, his voice softer and quieter.

Tiffany finally answers. "Me."

"Why?"

"I don't know." she lies.

Pat immediately knows it's a lie because he knows her so well, because he can see right through her.

"That's crap," Pat snaps back. "Tell me why."

"Pat, come on. Drop it. Okay?" she turns to him. "Can you do that?"

He shakes his head quickly. "No, I can't. I'm sorry, but I can. We agreed to be honest, that's the only way we're going to work-"

"Okay." she says loudly. "I don't know, I sorta...Shut down again."

"What do you mean?" his voice softens. "What happened, Tiff?"

"Nothing happened, I just..I guess I didn't really leave my studio, or do much, when we were...You know, not together or on the break. Or whatever it was."

Pat swallows tightly, guilt filling his insides.

"And...It was just hard, Pat." she admits, in a moment of striking vulnerability. "It was just a little hard for me, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?"

He breathes out heavily, and turns to face her briefly. "I'm so sorry, Tiff, for putting you through that and for not being there."

She shakes her head, and a smile creeps up on her face. "You didn't put me through anything."

"But I did," he counters quickly. "I didn't want to, but I did and I'm sorry."

Tiffany smiles sweetly. "That doesn't matter anymore. What matters is we're here, and we've made it."

"Which shows we can survive anything." he grins.

"Right." Tiffany replies, enthusiastically searching for the container of food in the back seat.

"God..." Pat sighs after a moment. "I just...When I look at you, I feel so much love. It's so strong, Tiff. I just think it's incredible to feel this much about someone. You're just beautiful, inside and out, all of the time."

Pat turns slowly towards Tiffany to find her with half of a freshly baked, and creamed, cake resting in her left hand. The other half of the chocolate cake, which was covered with a thick vanilla icing, hangs out of Tiffany's mouth. Crumbs and cream are scattered over her face, and the icing runs down her hands.

"Really, Pat?" she asks, with a mouth still full of food. "You think I'm beautiful?"

Pat has to pull the car over to the side of the road quickly before he erupts into a loud, hearty, long laugh. Tiffany slaps him several times, as she tries to wipe the cake from her mouth.

"Stop it! Stop laughing at me." she slaps him again. "I slipped, okay? I was really hungry, and it just slipped."

"Yeah, half of it slipped into your mouth-"

"If you're not going to help me, shut up." he continues to laugh.

Tiffany shoots him an icy glare, and his laughter falls silent for now.

"Okay, okay. I'll help."

"Pat." she sighs.

"Yeah?" he's still fighting the laugh.

She slaps him again, pausing after.

"Do you really think that?"

"What?" he frowns slightly.

"That I'm beautiful."

Pat leans forward and presses a soft, gentle kiss to her cheek.

"Yes, Tiff, always. Inside and out." he smiles.

"Aw, that's sweet, but you're not getting any cake." she tilts her head back. "Especially after that hand-holding incident back at the house. You're standing on thin ice-"

"But my Mo-" Pat begins.

"Made it for me." Tiffany smiles proudly. "Now, can you get me some tissues or something?"

Pat searches around for a minute before he finds the tissues, he helps Tiffany wipe the icing from her face while she cleans it from her hands.

"You take so much care of me." she mumbles.

He smiles. "Yeah, like you're a baby."

Her expression shifts quickly, and he finds himself stuttering to correct himself.

"A very beautiful, sexy baby."

"No, Pat!" Tiffany almost shrieks, hitting him again. "Come on! You can't say shit like that. That's wrong, on so many levels, and not the good kind of wrong."

"There's a good kind?" he asks, half smiling.

She almost glares at him.

"Oh, come on, Tiff. You know me, my words just slip out. Like you can say it's different for you. You swore in front of Emily."

Tiffany rolls her eyes, and takes the tissues from Pat's hands.

"Yeah, sure, let's forget it and keep driving okay? But I'm not a baby, and I'm not yours. Alright? I can take care of myself."

"Yeah, I know that, Tiff. I know. You're the strongest person I know." he half smiles. "You still got cream on your chin."

She sighs and wipes it away. "Great, I'm going to look like a mess when I meet your family."

"Yeah, but you'll be my mess." he tries to make it better.

He doesn't.

"That doesn't help at all. I don't want to be a mess. Is all the icing gone?"

Pat turns back to her and nods. "Yeah, you're good to go."

"Alright, let's go. We don't want to be later for dinner." she sighs, and shoves the tissues away into a small bag.

"Tiff?" he asks, pulling the car back onto the road.

"What?"

"Thanks for doing this with me. It's going to be great, I promise."

* * *

**A/N: Hi there.**

**I apologise for the really late update, and any spelling mistakes I missed.**

**Thanks for reading. x**


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